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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287691">For Here, Or To Go?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper99/pseuds/Chipper99'>Chipper99</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Destiel One Shots [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barista Castiel (Supernatural), Barista Gabriel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Car Sex, Coffee Shops, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sex in/on the Impala (Supernatural), Texting, Top Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:14:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper99/pseuds/Chipper99</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed that Gabriel was so absorbed in his phone that Dean worried for a second that Gabriel was going to walk straight into him, but once he was a few feet away, Gabriel came to a stop. Putting the phone into his pocket, he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’, finally looking up at Dean. The cocky flirtatious smirk he had been planning promptly melted away to one of immense confusion- that of which Dean was sure he was mirroring right back at him.</p><p>“You’re not Castiel?” Dean asked, perplexed by the turn of events. </p><p>“And you’re not that delicious hunk of tree that came into the shop with you?”</p><p>---</p><p>After days of incessant pleas from Sam, Dean finally caves in and agrees to visit a popular local coffee shop. Dean was expecting to go home with some fancy, overpriced, three-names in the title plastic cup of 'coffee'. He certainly wasn't expecting to return home with the cute baristas number.<br/>And he definitely wasn't expecting for his date's brother to arrive, instead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Gabriel (Background)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Destiel One Shots [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Here, Or To Go?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"I'm just going to write a simple coffee shop au," She said. "I'll keep it nice and short," She promised to herself, like a fool.</p><p>P.S. This is my first time writing smut, so... Please be gentle...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>California was never Dean’s favorite state.</p><p>Dean was a pretty straight-forward guy. Wandering into a bar after a grueling day, all he wanted was a beer. Not some fancy, locally made, fruit-infused, low alcohol crap. Just a beer. When he shuffled into his motel room after hours on the road, he just wanted a room. Not some stylish, new-age design with wallpapers so bright they made his eyes hurt- and then charged him extra for it.  He wanted a simple room with bland walls and a bed. Really, all he asks for is for his mattress not to have some weird-ass stains all over it.</p><p>California… Doesn’t do that. California is complicated. California is progressive, and that ain't a bad thing! America sure as hell needs a bit of that. Hell, a <em>lot </em>of that.</p><p>It’s just… It’s like he said, it's complicated. They over-do shit. He’s a simple guy, and California is anything but.</p><p>Sammy on the other hand? Well, he would fit right in. So, of course he would choose Stanford for college. <em>Months </em>of looking over and over his application forms, worrying over whether they’ll let him in. Yeah, like <em>that </em>would ever happen. Once they got one look at the kid, every college in the <em>country</em> would be clamoring over themselves to get him in, throwing scholarships at him left and right. Which is exactly what happened.</p><p>California was never Dean’s favorite state. But if it meant he could go see his smart-ass little brother living the dream he always wanted? He’ll walk into those loud-ass, neon-flashing bars and order those fruity cocktails with the little umbrellas, and he’ll do it with a damn smile on his face.</p><p>At least, that’s what he told himself. Now, with Sam practically dragging him by the arm to go to this fancy-ass coffee shop that ‘<em>everyone’s talking about Dean!’, </em>he’s beginning to think otherwise.</p><p>“When you said we go should go get coffee, the worst I was thinking of was Starbucks,” Dean complained as they wove through crowds of college students, all either making their way to class or heading to their daily caffeine fix, as they were.</p><p>“What’s wrong with Starbucks?” Sam asked, clearly offended.</p><p>“Everything, Sammy. Everything.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“For one, too many options-“</p><p>“<em>Too many options?</em> Since when is having a large selection to choose from a bad thing?”</p><p>“Damn kids are too spoiled for choice these days,” Dean grumbled like the old man he felt he was inside. “No red-blooded American should go to these places, Sammy. You either make a cup of black coffee at home, or you buy a cup at the gas station and chug it down as you’re driving so it scalds your throat.”</p><p>“And that’s <em>enjoyable </em>to you?”</p><p>“It’s part of the experience.”</p><p>Sam huffed beside him, shaking his head at Dean’s argument. “Trust me, you’re going to be kicking yourself for what you’ve been missing out on.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. So long as I get some caffeine in me, I’ll be happy,” There was no way Dean would ever agree these fancy shops were better than the stuff he could make at home, for a <em>lot </em>cheaper may he add, but if it got Sam to shut up about the wonders of modern-day coffee… “Wait a minute, I thought you said you hadn’t gone before?”</p><p>“I haven’t.” Sam shrugged his freakishly large shoulders, nearly knocking over a passer-by with them.</p><p>“Then why are you so sure it’s going to be so great? Just by word of mouth?”</p><p>“Dean, there’s a reason everyone’s been hounding at me to go to this place. I trust my friend’s coffee opinions.”</p><p>Sam led him down a side-street which, to Dean's dismay, seemed to be even more crowded than the one they had just left. “Yeah, well, don’t be so sure till you’ve tried it yourself,” Dean said, his heart sinking at the sight of the building filled to the brim with customers, which he had a nasty feeling was the one they were headed for.  “Just because people say you should try the wonders of bondage doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll like it yourself.”</p><p>Sam shot him a horrified look. “Dude, I get the feeling we live very different lives.”</p><p>Dean’s initial inkling was right, as Sam brought him over to the crowded store. He supposed the fact that it was filled with people was a good thing if just their coffee attracted so many customers. Then again, this was California. This place was filled with people just like Sam and his weird coffee preferences. Just because it was popular, didn’t mean he was going to like it.</p><p>A rustic, hand-painted sign was placed atop the glass front of the shop. The words ‘<em>Heaven’s Gate’ </em>were written in elegant golden writing, sat upon a pretty backdrop of a blue sky and fluffy white clouds, with the ‘H’ and ‘G’ both having halos painted atop of them. Despite all of this, the most striking aspect of the sign was the ebony black wings stretched out beside the name of the shop, their tips nearly going past the edge of the sign.</p><p>It was eye-catching, Dean’ll give ‘em that.</p><p>But like he said: over the top.</p><p>Sam’s over-proportioned size made it marginally easier for them to squeeze into the shop, most people clearing the way for the giant that just entered the shop. The place had a cozy feel to it: with soft, warm lights buzzing away in golden chandeliers that hung from the ceiling; rich, dark wooden tables <em>(Which… Damn, Dean’s pretty sure are is actual mahogany) </em>along with matching chairs that were adorned with some particularly comfy-looking red velvet cushions.</p><p>The interior décor of the room matched the signs outside. The walls were painted with a pale blue color that was easy on the eyes and, most impressively, the clouds also appeared to be hand-painted just as they were on the sign was outside. These clouds weren’t just a plain white but were colored with soft shades of oranges and reds and yellows, giving the appearance of the sun glinting off each and every one. And the blast of air conditioning that greeted them upon entering was enough to earn the shop the title of ‘<em>Heavenly’ </em>in Dean’s book. Especially in this unbearable Californian heat.</p><p>Dean’s not much one for interior decorating, but he had to admit, this place was certainly something to behold. At least, it was something to look at while they waited in this agonizingly long line. “I swear Sammy, this coffee better not be more than five bucks…”</p><p>“You know what they say, Dean: You get what you pay for. You want good quality coffee? You got to be prepared to pay a little extra.”</p><p>Sam wasn’t doing very well at changing his opinion on the matter.</p><p>“So, what’s the deal with this place, huh? What makes it so special? Secret family recipe?” Dean asked as they moved what felt like an inch forward.</p><p>“Honestly? Could be,” Sam said with a light chuckle. “Place is fairly new; I think it only opened a few months ago. From what I’ve heard, place is run entirely just by two brothers.”</p><p>“They’re the owners <em>and</em> the only workers?”</p><p>“That’s what I’ve been told. Gotta give them props for it- just the two of them working here, and with <em>this </em>size of a crowd? It’s gotta be tough.” Sam said.</p><p>“Why wouldn’t they just… Y’know, hire more people?” The more Dean peered around the place, the more it became abundantly clear they wouldn’t be getting a seat anytime soon. Guess that meant take-out service. “If I was stuck working in an overprice coffee shop serving privileged college kids with only <em>you </em>by my side, I would have lost my mind just a few days in.”</p><p>They weren’t that far from the front now, but even from here, Dean was squinting damn hard to read the writing up on the chalkboard hanging over the counter. It was written in the same elegant writing used on the sign and, even though the writing was beautiful, it wasn’t exactly easy to read. Just as Dean predicted, the board was filled with a long list of coffee names that he had no idea how to even pronounce, let alone have any kind of a clue as to what was actually <em>in </em>the drink he was ordering. Vanilla this, pumpkin that… Was any of this stuff <em>actually</em> coffee?</p><p>“Dammit Sammy, I thought we were going out for coffee,” Dean complained, turning his annoyed gaze to his little brother. “Not a…” Dean squinted harder at the sign. “…A masichacimacachino. Whatever that is.”</p><p>“It’s a <em>macho-macchiato,” </em>Sam corrected for him with a world-class bitch-face. “Sign says it’s a macchiato, but with an extra kick of caffeine to it. Hence the macho at the beginning.”</p><p>“Where’s the option for just plain coffee…” Dean grumbled under his breath. The list of items available felt endless. Every option had a little description next to it, and yet, it only seemed to confuse him even more. Dean just didn’t understand the coffee language that everyone else in this damn place seemed to be born knowing.</p><p>“Next!”</p><p>Dean nearly jumped out of his skin at the barked order. He had become so absorbed in reading the sign and mindlessly stepping forward as the line shortened that he hadn’t even realized they had reached the front. Dean turned to Sam, ready to say he had no friggen clue what to order, but Sam was already walking over to one of the baristas that had become available; A short man with locks of golden hair and a smile that spoke both of years of experience in customer service, and years of charming every person he came into contact with.</p><p>“Sir?”</p><p>Oh right, there were <em>two </em>people working here.  </p><p>Face flushing red with embarrassment at the huffs of impatience from behind him, Dean raced forward to the counter. He cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he got his apologies ready.</p><p>“Sorry man, I’m not really used to all this and was feeling a bit-“ Dean had looked up, only to be greeted by the bluest eyes he thinks he’s ever seen. If he thought the pale blue of the walls were something to look at, then this man’s eyes could probably captivate his attention for days on end. Dark brows that matched the color of his hair rose at Dean’s abrupt stop in speech.</p><p>“Feeling a bit…?” The graveled inquiry came from the stranger’s mouth.</p><p>“Overwhelming,” Dean finished, quickly coming to the conclusion that staring at this man probably came off a bit creepy. “You know, with all the options.”</p><p>“You don’t look the kind of person who comes to these kinds of places.” The man told him. Dean was expecting the guy to be annoyed with the amount of time he was taking, but the small hitch of his lips seemed to show otherwise. Well, either that, or the dude had some strong customer-service skills.</p><p>“Oh, yeah?” Dean challenged, leaning against the counter with a soft smile of his own. “Well tell me, uh…” Dean peered at the nametag attached to the down-right adorable apron which featured many cartoon bees buzzing about.</p><p>“Castiel,” Castiel answered for him.</p><p>“Well Castiel, you’re spot on that I don’t usually come to places like this. Since I have no clue what to order, and since you seem so good at knowing me just from how I look, then tell me; what should a guy like me order at a place like this?”</p><p>Castiel’s smile grew at the challenge. Not one that showed off any pearly whites mind you. It was a smile harder to see, one that softened the eyes. “Hmm, well… I get the feeling you’re not a tea kind of guy,” Castiel guessed correctly, leaning forward with a sly smirk on his face. “You might say… It’s not your cup of tea.”</p><p>If any other person said such a terrible pun to him, Dean probably would have groaned in disgust. But there was just something about the way Castiel said it that made it nothing but endearing. Dean looked away with a snort and a shake of his head, his reaction to the pun only seeming to brighten Castiel’s smile.  “Correct again, Castiel. I think it’s safer we stick to coffee.”</p><p>Castiel hummed thoughtfully, leaning back from the counter and squinting inquisitively at Dean, tapping a finger to his chin as he thought. Dean could get a better look at Castiel now; dressed in a sweater that was mostly hidden behind his apron which matched his eyes, looking much too warm to be worn. Next to Castiel on the counter was a donation box crafted in the shape of a bee-hive, the words ‘<em>Save the Bee’s’</em> written across it’s front.</p><p>“I think… I Don’t Care.” Castiel said.</p><p><em>‘Whoa,</em>’ Dean thought. ‘<em>Where did that come from?’</em></p><p>“Excuse me?” Dean asked, his confusion only growing at the sight of Castiel’s grin. Castiel simply points up at the sign above him in response.</p><p>“It’s one of the options on our menu,” Castiel explained for him. “The ‘<em>I Don’t Care.’ </em>For the people taking a trip to the coffee shop who are kind enough to ask someone if they want something while they’re there, and they respond with ‘I don’t care.’”</p><p>“How often does that get ordered?” Dean asked.</p><p>“More often than you’d think. Takes the worry out of what you’re going to order for someone. Technically, they picked an item from the menu. Hard to get mad at someone for ordering exactly what you asked for.”</p><p>“That’s some genius marketing there, Cas,” Dean said.</p><p>“While I appreciate the compliment, I’m afraid it’s misgiven.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“My brother Gabriel is actually the one who came up with the idea,” Cas told him, pointing to his left. Dean followed where Cas was pointing to see the golden-haired barista he had seen before, still happily chatting away to Sam, who seemed <em>very </em>engaged in conversation. “But I’ll be happy to pass on the compliment.”</p><p>“So, what’s in this drink I’m ordering?” Dean asked as Castiel poked away at the screen of his cash register. “A crap ton of whipped cream? Five shots of some kind of caramel syrup thingy?”</p><p>“I think it’s better kept a surprise, don’t you?” Castiel smirked from behind the register, eliciting a chuckle out of Dean.</p><p>“If you say so, Cas. What do I owe you?” Dean replied, pulling out his wallet from the back of his jeans, already wincing in preparation for a hefty bill.</p><p>“Two dollars and eighty-five cents,” Castiel replied, holding out his hand for the orders payment. “Sorry for how busy it is today. I’m afraid our dine-in option isn’t much of an <em>option </em>right now… You okay with a take-out cup?”</p><p>“So long as the coffee’s good, I’ve got no problems. And two eighty-five? That it?” Dean asked, certain he had heard wrong. He took a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and placed it down in Castiel’s waiting hands. “You just keep making my day, Cas.”</p><p>“I’m not too sure what I did to warrant such nice words, but thank you,” Castiel replied warmly. The cash register opened with a ding, and Castiel began digging around in its contents for Dean’s change, sliding some notes and coins out from their confines and straight into Dean’s hands; which Dean then tuck neatly into the yellow and black striped bee donation box. He didn’t know much about bee conservation, but the beaming smile he got out of it from Cas before he turned to make his order was good enough for him.</p><p>Dean was content to just sit here, leaning against the counter and watch Cas as he dashed between machines that, Dean supposed, made coffee- though which did what, he had no clue. A few seconds later the previously mentioned brother, Gabriel, appeared at Castiel’s side, and the two appeared to enter a heated, whispered discussion. Turning to his side, the care-free smile on Dean’s face slipped away as he glanced over to Sam and took in that knowing look, complete with raised eyebrows and all. Dean felt his traitorous face flush in response, and he instantly sent a glare in his little brothers’ direction and mouthed ‘<em>Like you can talk!’. </em>It had the desired effect, at least if the bitch-face and equally reddened face he got in response was anything to go by.</p><p>“Again, sorry for the wait,” Castiel’s rumble brought back Dean’s attention to the counter, where he had just placed a styrofoam takeaway cup. “Hopefully, the coffee makes up for it. There’s some sugar packets and milk pots by the exit if you need them.”</p><p>“Thanks very much, Cas. Lookin’ forward to seeing just how accurate your judgment skills are.” Dean tipped the coffee in his hands to him, flashing him one last smile before turning towards the exit, stopping by the little wooden cabinet of sugars, milks, creamers, and stirrers Castiel had pointed out to him. One packet of sugar and a stirrer in his hands later, Sam appeared by his side, picking out an unhealthy amount of sugar packets and creams.</p><p>“What, suddenly your rabbit food and smoothies aren’t appetizing anymore?” Dean side-eyed his little brothers’ selections. “Finally giving into the dark side? Realizing the benefits of food that actually tastes good?”</p><p>“Shut up,” Sam complained, fistful of sugar packets still in hand as he veered towards the exit of the shop. “Gabriel said-“</p><p>“Oh, <em>Gabriel</em> said, huh?” Dean teased mercilessly, following after his brother.</p><p>“<em>Gabriel said-” </em>Sam repeated firmly. “-That this is the best way to make this drink. So, I’m giving it a go.”</p><p>“Oh, Sammy, Sammy. You’ve been swayed by the devil himself.” Dean popped the lid off his coffee, peering down into its contents to see what Castiel had ordered for him.</p><p>Pure. Black. Coffee.</p><p>Hell <em>yes.</em></p><p>“<em>Damn,” </em>Dean cursed in astonishment. “How the hell does someone know a guy's coffee preference just by looking at him?”</p><p>“Lucky guess?” Sam offered. “Or maybe he was listening to you complain about how you wanted a plain coffee the whole time we're in line.”</p><p>The rich smell of coffee filled his nose, so strong he could practically taste it already. Dean took a hearty swig, satisfied at the warmth that spread through his body, even in the day’s near unbearable heat, which was made even worse by the crowds of people that passed them by in the street.</p><p>“You and nerd friends were right. This coffee is <em>damn </em>good.” Dean said, taking another long sip of his deliciously strong coffee.</p><p>“Does this mean you’ll start taking more of my advice from now on?”</p><p>“Not a chance in hell, Sammy. What did you even get that apparently needs <em>five </em>packets of sugar to be drinkable?”</p><p>“I Don’t Care,” Sam answered, frowning at his choice of words. “Wait, that sounds weird, it was an-“</p><p>“You’re kidding me?” Dean interrupted in astonishment. “Would you look at that! Turns out our coffee preferences aren’t that different after all.”</p><p>“You got the same?”</p><p>“Cas- the guy who was serving me- he chose it for me, yeah. Man, what are the odds?”</p><p>“Considering I personally ordered it myself and it was chosen for you because you wouldn’t stop talking about how you wanted the <em>exact </em>same coffee I ordered… I’d say the odds were fairly high.”</p><p>“No one likes a smart-ass, Sammy.”</p><p>* * *</p><p> </p><p>“You know, it’s never too late, Dean,” Sam spoke over his shoulder, pushing open the door to his apartment. “There’s no maximum age to go to college, y’know. Plenty of people older than eighteen go, you wouldn’t be the only one.”</p><p>“I told you Sam, it’s just not my thing.” Dean followed him into the apartment, making a beeline straight for the couch that was calling his name and flopping down on it, coffee cup still in hand with the last few dregs inside. “The idea of college didn’t appeal to me back then, and it doesn’t now.”</p><p>“I’m just saying-“</p><p>“I know, Sammy. I know. Look, I can see you’re happy here, and that’s <em>great</em>, but that doesn’t mean I will be too. I’ve got a job that I love, and it makes me a decent amount of money. Sure, I’ll never be ‘Mr. Rich Lawyer’ like you’re striving to be, but I’m comfortable where I’m at. I’m <em>happy</em>.”</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>Dean chuckled humourlessly, pushing down on his knees as he stood from the couch. “Yeah, Sam. I am.” Dean strolled into Sam’s kitchen, heading for the trash can.</p><p>“It’s just… With the hopping from one place to the other and all that, I thought-“</p><p>“Well, don’t,” Dean stopped him. “I’m <em>fine.”</em></p><p>Sam looked unconvinced, but was smart enough to sense that this wasn’t a conversation Dean was in the mood for right now. Dean took the pause in conversation to finish off the last sips of his coffee, a part of him saddened to find his drink was at its end.</p><p>“You know what’ll make me happy?” Dean shot towards his brother. “If you take me back to this place for coffee. Cheap, damn good quality, what else can you ask for-“</p><p>The coffee cup in Dean’s hand hovered over the trash-can. He had been about to throw it away when the sight of some smudged writing on the side of the cup caught his eye. Dean frowned, lifting the cup closer to his face for a better look. The writing had been messed up a bit, no doubt due to being held in his sweaty hands on the walk home, but he could just about make out what had been hastily scrawled onto his cup.</p><p>
  <strong>‘209-213-9284’</strong>
</p><p>It was a number.</p><p>It was <em>Cas’s </em>number. It <em>had </em>to be.</p><p>“What? What is it?” Sam asked, noticing his brother's prolonged stare with his coffee cup.</p><p>“It’s-“ Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping on his contacts icon and carefully transferring over the number on his cup under the name: <strong><em>Cas – Coffee Guy</em></strong><em>. “-</em>Another reason to return to the coffee shop.” Dean threw the coffee cup in Sam’s direction, who fumbled with it for a good few seconds before getting a solid grip on it.</p><p>“Is this- Did the guy leave you his number?” Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, snorting at the self-satisfied look he got in return. “Kinda cheesy, isn’t it?”</p><p>Dean snatched the cup back from Sam with a glare, holding it close to his chest. “Not everyone likes being ‘direct’ when they’re interested in someone, Sammy. Obviously, Cas doesn’t either.” Dean walked over to the kitchen counter where Sam had placed his cup down upon entering the apartment, picking it up and waving it in Sam’s face. “Besides, it just sounds likes <em>someone’s</em> jealous that they didn’t get a number-“</p><p>Sam’s hand shot out to stop Dean’s hand, peering down at the cup in his hands with a furrowed brow. “What?” Dean asked at the sight of Sam’s slowly reddening face, tightening his grip on the cup when he felt Sam trying to tug it back. Yanking the cup out of Sam’s pull, Dean turned the cup in his hands and barked out a laugh at the scribbled numbers on the cup.</p><p>“Ha! Not so cheesy when it happens to you, huh?”</p><p>“Whatever,” Sam mumbled, swiping the cup out of Dean’s hands once his guard was down. “You gonna text this Cas guy?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Dean shot back. “You gonna call this Gabriel guy?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Sam mimicked, already busy saving the number to his phone.</p><p>“So childish, Sammy,” Dean admonished, dropping back down onto Sam’s couch with a teasing smile. “People find that quality to be pretty unattractive in a guy, you know.”</p><p>Dean just about dodged the cup thrown at his head, <em>once </em>Sam had safely saved the number on his phone, of course.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The glare from Dean’s phone screen filled the cramped living room of Sam’s apartment. Even from here, he could hear Sam’s snoring from behind the closed door of his equally small bedroom. Sam had already messaged <em>his </em>barista friend and wasn’t quiet about it either. Apparently, the dude was more ‘subdued’ than Sam had gotten the impression of. Either way, he had already agreed to a date with the guy- Something that he couldn’t stop gloating about.</p><p>Dean meanwhile could only stare blankly at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over Cas’s contact. For one, it was already late into the night, and he didn’t want to be the asshole that messages late at night and wakes you up. He had been going back and forth on whether he should text Cas for hours now. He wasn’t going to be in California for very long, only a few months at most before he was off someplace else. And even that was under the conditions the mechanic shop down the street from Sammy’s apartment would take him.</p><p>He was usually pretty lucky when it came to mechanic shops taking him on; His experience in the trade was one they usually looked out for, and most mechanics usually had a temporary spot available for work. But there was always some who didn’t like the idea of hiring someone who drifted about, which Dean could understand. Still, he had enough money saved up in his account to stay here for a few months even without a job, especially since Sam was kind enough to offer up his couch as a place to sleep instead of shelling out money on a shitty motel room every night. With a job here though, maybe he could stay a few more months than he usually would. It would be worth it, just to spend some extra precious time with his little brother before heading off once more.</p><p><em>‘Fuck it,’ </em>Dean thought, tapping on Cas’s name and tapping away at the keyboard that popped up once he clicked on the text box.</p><p><strong> <em>11:23 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>The ol’ number on the coffee cup, eh? Didn’t take you for that kind of guy.</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:27 PM Cas – Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Oh, really? I thought I gave off that kind of impression myself ;) Speaking of, I didn’t take you for the kind of guy who sends a message for a late-night booty call, but here we are.</em></p><p>Dean's eyebrows practically shot up into his hairline at the response he got. From the way Cas spoke at the coffee shop, he wasn’t exactly expecting for his texting manner to be… Well, like this.</p><p><strong> <em>11:31 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Whoa there, pal. At least buy me a coffee first.</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:32 PM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>You already bought a coffee from me. Does that count?</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:32 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Not in my book, it doesn’t. </em></p><p><strong> <em>11:34 PM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Oooo, is that how it’s going to be? Do I have to woo you the traditional way?</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:35 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>I don’t know, what does your ‘wooing methods’ usually involve?</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:36 PM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Hmm… Depends on the person, I guess.</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:36 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Okay, so what were your plans for me? </em></p><p><strong> <em>11:39 PM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Again, that depends.</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:40 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>On what?</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:43 PM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>For one, is this just a booty call? Or are you looking for something a lil’ more than that? </em></p><p>Once more, Dean found his thumbs to have stilled over his phone screen. What <em>was </em>he looking for here? Just using Cas for another one of his one-night stands just felt… <em>Wrong</em>. Usually with his one-night stands, he didn’t bother with any of this crap. He didn’t let them find him, he went out to find them. A person randomly picked out from the bar, maybe a name exchanged, but that was about it. Most of the time, the other person knew what was to come out of it. In fact, most mornings he woke up to find his partner for the night gone already, and the mornings where he woke up first, he made sure to get out of there as soon as possible.</p><p>This though… This felt different. It <em>couldn’t </em>be, though. It wasn’t fair to this guy. He would be gone before either of them knew it, and he couldn’t just lead the guy on like that. That would just be cruel. And if he was stupid enough to start getting attached to this guy… It was just going to be painful for the both of them.</p><p>With that in mind, Dean proceeded to do something incredibly stupid.</p><p><strong> <em>11:55 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Definitely not a booty call.</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:58 PM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Well, would you look at that! Seems we’re both on the same page.</em></p><p><strong> <em>11:59 PM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>You gonna tell me what your plans are for wooing me now we’re on the same page?’ Or are you the kind of guy to leave a guy waiting?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:02 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Oh, I’m definitely the kind of guy who likes to… Delay things. Adds a little excitement, don’t you think? ;)</em></p><p><strong><em>12:02 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em> </strong> <em>Plus, it’s good to leave some things a surprise! If I told you ALL my plans, they wouldn’t work as well! A guy’s gotta keep his secrets, y’know. </em></p><p><em>‘Wow…’ </em>Dean thought to himself. This… was another side to Cas that he didn’t see at the coffee shop.</p><p><strong> <em>12:03 AM</em> </strong> <em> <strong>Cas- Coffee Guy:</strong> Buuuut, since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you a sneak preview.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:03 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em> </strong> <em> First off, I start off with a little pick-up line action. Just enough to reel you in, hopefully get you laughing. </em></p><p>No… Please no, not pick-up lines.</p><p><strong> <em>12:04 AM Dean:</em> </strong> <em> Oh, Jesus Christ…</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:06 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em> </strong> <em> No, but close! I was named after an angel, after all.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:07 AM Dean:</em> </strong> <em> Your name did seem… Unique?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:08 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em> </strong> <em> Yeah, it’s a family thing. Being that they were over-religious nutjobs who didn’t actually care about us. </em></p><p><strong> <em>12:08 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em> </strong> <em> My brothers were hit with the same curse as well, unfortunately.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:08 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Which is ironic, since the line I’m about to use is certainly NOT holy.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:10 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Please don’t…</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:10 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Hey babe, are you a Molotov?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:11 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Stop. Stop it now. </em></p><p><strong> <em>12:11 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Coz you’re hot enough to smash.</em></p><p>Dean couldn’t help himself. He ugly-snorted at the shitty, not at all effective pick-up line.</p><p><strong> <em>12:13 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Dude. That was a terrible pick-up line. </em></p><p><strong> <em>12:14 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Ouch! That was one of my best ones…</em></p><p><strong><em>12:15 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em></strong> <em>You think you can do any better?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:16 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Uh, yeah. Without a doubt. </em></p><p><strong> <em>12:19 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Get out of here! You are NOT the kind of guy who uses pick-up lines, I could tell. </em></p><p><strong> <em>12:20 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>I’m afraid you read me all wrong there, pal. I’ve got the best pick-up lines in the country. </em></p><p><strong><em>12:22 AM Cas- Coffee Guy</em>: </strong> <em>Lay it on me, bucko. We’ll see if you deserve such a title. </em></p><p>Dean rolled his eyes at the message. Texting with Cas was… kinda fun. Not that he didn’t think it wouldn’t be, but the way it was going wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. If he was being honest with himself, the more he messaged Cas, the less he felt connected to the guy he met in the coffee shop. He supposed that some people were just braver behind a screen than they were talking in person.</p><p><strong> <em>12:25 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>It sucks that all of the pick-up lines are taken,</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:25 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>???</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:26 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>But you sure aren’t, and I’d be down to change that.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:26 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Ho Ho! You nearly got me swoonin’ there!</em></p><p><strong><em>12:28 AM Dean: </em></strong>Told ya.</p><p><strong> <em>12:30 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Alright, my turn again…</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:31 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>I’d like to tell you that you are beautiful,</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:32 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>But beauty is on the inside, and I haven’t been inside you yet.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:33 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Jesus, dude! Why is it always the dirty ones with you?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:34 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>But those are the best ones! :(</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:35 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Alright, alright, this one’ll work for sure.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:36 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Like the others were meant to?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:37 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Shhhhh, just listen</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:37 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Or, read. Whatever, you know what I mean. Here we go:</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:37 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>If I asked you out on a date, would your answer be the same was your answer to this question? </em></p><p>Dean frowned down at his phone in confusion for a little longer than he’d like to admit.</p><p><strong> <em>12:40 AM: Dean: </em> </strong> <em>You’ve trapped me.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:41 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Mhm-Hm. That’s kind of the point.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:43 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>So? You gonna give me an answer, or are you gonna leave a guy hanging?</em></p><p>Was he?</p><p>Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. And he’d be lying if he said he was jumping at the chance to go on a date with this guy. The feeling he was getting off the guy, it just wasn’t the connection he had been expecting. It certainly wasn’t anything near the spark he had felt talking to him face to face earlier that day. If anything, the vibe he got from Cas was more of the annoying friend that you can't help but find kind of funny. At the end of the day, Cas made him laugh, over message even.</p><p>One of the things Dean Winchester<em> is</em>, is the kind of guy who likes to see the best in people. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen, right? If things don’t go entirely according to plan, then maybe he’ll get a friend out of all of this.</p><p><strong> <em>12:50 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Yes. I’d have to say my answer is yes.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:52 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Phew! Thought I’d scared you off for a second there.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:53 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>You were a little forward.</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:54 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>And yet it worked ;)</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:55 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>That’s still up for debate</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:55 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>:(</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:55 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>It’s too late, you’ve already agreed! I’ve got it in writing right here!</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:56 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Where do you propose we go on this ‘date’ that I kind of feel like I’m now legally obliged to attend?</em></p><p><strong> <em>12:58 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>You know where Cornelis Bol Park is?</em></p><p>Actually, he did. It was a park near to Stanford that Sam dragged him to for one of his ‘morning runs’. Dean hated every second of it.</p><p><strong><em>1:00 AM Dean:</em> </strong> <em>Uh, you’re not planning to lead me into the woods and murder me, are you?</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:01 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>What? No! Geesh, what kind of upbringing did you have?</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:01 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>A perfectly normal, cautious one.</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:02 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Well, no, no plans for murder I’m afraid. Just a nice walk through nature, with an equally nice chat. What’s say you meet me there- Thursday, about 4 o’clock?</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:04 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>It’s a date, I guess?</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:04 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Wait, the parks a big place, where should I meet you?</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:05 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Hmm, how about the donkey pen?</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:08 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Sure… But why there?</em></p><p><strong><em>1:09 AM Cas- Coffee Guy:</em> </strong> <em>Coz then your butt won’t be the only ass I get to see ;)</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:10 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>Annnnnddddd I think that’s officially all I can handle for tonight</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:11 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>That’s what she said ;)</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:12 AM Dean: </em> </strong> <em>GOODNIGHT!</em></p><p><strong> <em>1:12 AM Cas- Coffee Guy: </em> </strong> <em>Night! :)</em></p><p> </p><p>* * *</p><p>“Where you going?” Sam’s neck was craned at an uncomfortable-looking angle over the couch, peering at Dean as he shucked on his leather jacket. “Not on a date with that Cas guy, I hope.”</p><p>Dean froze with one arm stuck part-way in his jacket, turning to his brother with a puzzled look. “What do you mean? Why shouldn’t I be?”</p><p>Sam looked him up and down. “Dressed like that? C’mon man, have some standards.”</p><p>Dean looked down at himself, offended at such criticisms. He could see nothing wrong with his attire: his best looking- i.e. clean and free from holes- pair of jeans, a simple black cotton tee-shirt, his dad’s worn leather jacket, and his comfortable tan hiking boots. “I’m not like you Sammy; I don’t like playing dress-up before I go on a date.”</p><p>“I don’t play <em>dress-up,” </em>Sam snapped back. “There’s nothing wrong with looking presentable on a date.”</p><p>“I look presentable! It’s not like I’m taking the guy to a fancy, <em>charge you sixty dollars for a meal the size of a cracker, </em>place. Hell, I’m not even taking the guy to a <em>place,</em> period.”</p><p>“Then… Where are you going?”</p><p>“The park.”</p><p>“You?” Sam asked, baffled. “Are going to the park? For a date?”</p><p>“Wasn’t my suggestion,” Dean refuted. “It was Cas’s. I just agreed to it.”</p><p>Sam raised an eyebrow, noticing the lack of enthusiasm in Dean’s voice.</p><p>“Wow, well, don’t sound <em>too </em>excited, Dean.”</p><p>Dean opened his mouth to argue, but sighed instead, taking a seat on the back of Sam’s sofa (how many times is he going to have to tell Dean to stop <em>doing that</em>, he <em>knows</em> it damages the damn thing…) “I’m… I am, it’s just… I don’t know, we were texting last night-“</p><p>“Whoa wait, are we talking about your <em>feelings?” </em>Sam held out a hand to stop him. “What happened to no chick-flick moments?”</p><p>“Shut up, bitch.” Dean shot back, barely resisting the urge to smack his little brother around the back of the head. “I don’t know if it was just me, or it was late or something, or… I don’t know. Just… It felt like the guy I messaged last night wasn’t the same guy I talked to yesterday. I only agreed to this whole date thing because… Shit, I don’t even know the answer to that, really. I thought maybe the guy acted different over the phone, y’know?”</p><p>“That’s kind of like what I was telling you about the other night,” Sam added in. “I thought the same thing as you- that Gabriel was just shyer over the phone.”</p><p>“Well, it was the opposite for me,” Dean said with a shrug, sliding off the back of the couch. “I mean, Cas wasn’t <em>shy</em> when we talked at the coffee shop, but he was nowhere near as… <em>outgoing</em>, should I say, when we were texting.” Dean leaned forward with his arms crossed on the back of the couch, resting his chin on the top of his arms. “You agreed to a date too though, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, I did. It’s in a few hours, actually.”</p><p>“You gonna tell me where you’re going?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>Dean grunted at his brother’s stubbornness. “What if I have to come save you if this Gabriel guy turns out to be a murderer or something?”</p><p>“Says the guy who’s going to a park for their first date.”</p><p>“Touché,” Dean replied, pinching a strand of Sam’s hair between his fingers. Sam immediately swatted his brother's hand away. “Only a few hours till your date, huh? Shouldn’t you go wash your hair and start putting on your makeup, Samantha?”</p><p>Dean will admit, he totally deserved the pillow he got to the face.</p><p> </p><p>* * *</p><p> </p><p>The cold top bar to the gate of the donkey's pen dug into Dean’s back, squinting against the harsh light glaring down at him from the sun. Maybe wearing a black shirt and leather jacket in this scorching Californian heat wasn’t such a good idea…</p><p>Kids ran back and forth in front of him, a mix of delighted giggles and ear-piercing screeches coming from them once they caught sight of the pen of fluffy donkeys just waiting to be pet and brushed all over. Tired looking parents chased after each and every one, though the smiles on their faces as they did so surely meant they couldn’t be having <em>too </em>bad of a time.</p><p>Dean reached a hand into his jacket pocket, sliding out his phone and swiping a thumb across its screen to turn it on. The clock on his home screen blinked back <strong>3:55 PM </strong>at him- just a few minutes until Castiel was supposed to show up. Dean stared at his phone for a few more seconds before he inevitably clicked on Cas’s name once more, bringing up their chat history. Still no new text messages, so no changes to their plans. So he assumed, anyway.</p><p>Most of the other parents and kids had been keeping a respectable distance from him, so the sound of approaching footsteps startled him so badly he nearly dropped his phone. Hastily stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Dean looked up to see who was behind the hastily approaching footsteps.</p><p>It was… Gabriel?</p><p>No doubt about it, he recognized the golden-haired barista that had apparently managed to swoon his brother over. Gabriel was staring down at his phone which he held in one hand, the other hand busy holding a lollipop to his mouth. It seemed that Gabriel was so absorbed in his phone that Dean worried for a second that Gabriel was going to walk straight into him, but once he was a few feet away, Gabriel came to a stop. Putting the phone into his pocket, he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’, finally looking up at Dean. The cocky flirtatious smirk he had been planning promptly melted away to one of immense confusion- that of which Dean was sure he was mirroring right back at him.</p><p>“You’re not Castiel?” Dean asked, perplexed by the turn of events.</p><p>“And you’re not that delicious hunk of tree that came into the shop with you?” Gabriel countered.</p><p><em>‘Huh,’ </em>Dean thought. ‘<em>The way Gabriel spoke sounded very… familiar…’</em></p><p>Dean pulled his phone back out of his pocket, bringing up his chat history with Cas again. His eyes scanned over the various messages from a few nights ago, then back up to Gabriel and his impatient stare, then back down to his phone again.</p><p>Then it clicked.</p><p>“Is this you?” Dean asked, holding out his phone screen for Gabriel to read.</p><p>Gabriel leaned closer, lollipop back in his mouth as he squinted at Dean’s phone, eyes rapidly moving across the screen. Dean took the widening of Gabriel’s eyes to mean he had come to the same conclusion as he had. Gabriel scrambled in his pockets for his own phone, scrolling through it for a few moments before holding it out to Dean. “And I assume this is you?”</p><p>Dean only had to glance at the screen to confirm that yep, that was their conversation from the other night.</p><p>“Uh, so… How exactly did this happen?” Dean asked Gabriel. “I texted the number left on <em>my </em>cup, so I assumed it was Cas. And if I was to guess, I’m not the person you were expecting either.”</p><p>“I left my number for the guy you came in with. You know, the tall guy? Looks like he could probably crush me, not that that’s a bad thing,” Dean pulled a face at Gabriel’s description of who he can only assume is Sam. “Wait a minute - - Are <em>you </em>the guy from the coffee shop that Cassie wouldn’t stop chewing my ear off about? You’ve certainly got the green eyes to match – about the only thing I could remember from his constant ramblings.”</p><p>“I… I guess so?”</p><p>Gabriel hummed in thought, pacing back and forth in front of the pen with a hand to his chin, scratching absentmindedly as he walked. He suddenly came to a stop, clicking his fingers as an idea hit him. “Wait, what did you order?”</p><p>“Plain black coffee,” Dean answered. “Actually it was Cas - who I’m gonna guess is your brother?” Gabriel nodded at him. “Yeah, well, Cas kinda ordered it for me. I think it was called the, uh… ‘I Don’t Care?’ Weird name like that.”</p><p>“Oh!” Gabriel exclaimed, smacking his forehead with his palm. “Dammit, Cassie…”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“The tall tree-“</p><p>“<em>Sam,” </em>Dean corrected, who was starting to get real tired of hearing his brother described like this.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“My brother’s name is Sam.”</p><p>“Sam’s your brother?” Gabriel asked. “I guess I can… Kind of see the resemblance?”</p><p>“Hey, I look more related to Sam than you look related to Cas,” Dean wasn’t entirely sure why he was defending his genetic relation to Sam.</p><p>“Whatever-” Gabriel brushed him off. “<em>Sam</em> ordered the same thing as you!”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“When we were both making your drinks- and Cassie wouldn’t stop talking about you-” Dean tried to pretend he couldn’t feel his face flush red. “-I must have got distracted and…Well, I <em>may </em>have mixed up your cups…”</p><p>“So…. Cas wrote his number on <em>my </em>cup…” Dean began to connect the dots.</p><p>“And I wrote my number on the trees – <em>Sam’s</em> – cup.” Gabriel helped him to get there faster.</p><p>“And then Cas gave me Sam’s order…”</p><p>“Annnnd I gave Sam <em>your </em>cup.” Gabriel finished with a strained smile.</p><p>“Well…Shit,” Dean muttered with a chuckle. “God, it all makes sense now. Seriously dude, no offense, but I have never been so relieved.”</p><p>“I’d say ‘none taken’, but I don’t know what the offense was supposed to be. What ‘makes sense now?’”</p><p>“Come on, you telling me you weren’t texting me thinking ‘Who the hell is this guy? This wasn’t the guy I was talking to before.’”</p><p>“Ohhhhh….” Gabriel said, shaking a pointed finger at Dean. “I <em>thought</em> something was off!”</p><p>“Yeah, like I said, ‘no offense’, but uh, you are <em>nothing</em> like your brother. Like, at all. I mean, I haven’t exactly known Cas for <em>long, </em>but I was reading your texts thinking ‘Man, Cas was nowhere near this <em>annoying-‘“</em></p><p>“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it,” Gabriel interrupted him with a scowl. “Honestly? A little offense taken there, uh… What <em>is </em>your name?”</p><p>“Oh-“ Dean couldn’t believe he hadn’t told Gabriel his name yet. “Dean. Name’s Dean.” Dean held out a hand for Gabriel to shake. Gabriel clasped his hand and, to Dean’s surprise, was now averting his eyes from Dean’s gaze, his other hand rubbing at the back of his neck.</p><p>“So, uh…” Gabriel mumbled. “Did… Did Sam… God, I sound like a teenager again, but… Did he say anything about me?”</p><p>“Uh… He’s mentioned you but, not that much?” Dean couldn’t help but feel bad at the way Gabriel seemed to deflate upon hearing that. “But Sammy doesn’t really talk about that kind of stuff with me. He, uh… He likes you though. It’s all in his face, I can tell.”</p><p>“He does?” The hope in Gabriel's voice was palpable.</p><p>“Yeah, man. I’m his big brother, it’s my job to tell.”</p><p>“Thanks, Deano.” Ah, there was the over-confident smile he had gotten used to. “<em>Big </em>brother? Arent, you a little on the short side to have that title?”</p><p>“Arent you being too much of an asshole to your date’s brother?” Dean retaliated.</p><p>Gabriel laughed with his hands held up in defense. “Alright, you got me there. So what's the plan now, Deano? I’m assuming our date’s not gonna go ahead coz uh, you’re not really my type.”</p><p>“Right back at you,” Dean mumbled under his breath. It seemed like just <em>being</em> around Gabriel sucked the energy right out of him. Dean’s eyes widened as a realization hit him, turning to Gabriel. “Wait a minute – Sammy said he was going on his date with you, Cas now I suppose, today as well.”</p><p>“Gotta be Cassie,” Gabriel agreed. “He told me he’s got a date with <em>you</em> today, too.”</p><p>“Sam only said it ‘in a few hours’, which I guess means-“</p><p>“It’s at seven,” Gabriel filled in the blanks. “And luckily for you, Cassie <em>does</em> like talking to me about his dating life. Not so lucky for me but, y’know how it goes. Anything for family, right?”</p><p>“Were you getting to a point, or?”</p><p>“Alright! Geez… Anyway, Cassie booked a table at Gott’s roadside – great little burger place – reservation for two.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So… What’s say we go crash this party, eh? Maybe fix our little problem?”</p><p>“Fix it <em>how</em>?”</p><p>“C’mon Deano, your texts made you seem smarter than this!” Gabriel may be Castiel’s brother, but he was getting damn close to earning a smack to the back of his head. “My little brother is gonna be out there just waiting for his date to show up! We should probably go make sure it’s you that’s sitting opposite him and not Sam, right? Save all the embarrassment of, well, what we’re experiencing right now?”</p><p>“Are you… Trying to set me up on a date with your brother?”</p><p>“<em>No,</em>” Gabriel stressed the word. “I’m trying to make sure you get to go on the date you were <em>supposed</em> to go on in the first place and make sure <em>I </em>get to the date <em>I</em> was supposed to go in the first place. Make sense?”</p><p>Dean sighed, tipping his head up to the sky and pinching the bridge of his nose. This guy was going to be the death of him, he could already tell. He’d put up with him for now, though. He’d have to. If he wanted a chance with Castiel, that was. “Wouldn’t it be easier just to call them now and explain everything?”</p><p>“Yeah, but that’d be no fun!” Gabriel said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “C’mon, Deano! Cassie’s awaiting! You telling me you wanna leave my little brother sad and disappointed, sitting on his lonesome once Sammy boy realizes the mix-up, huh? Just him all alone with his sad little burger for one, sippin’ on his beer, wondering when he’ll ever get to see ‘Mr dreamy green eyes’ again-“</p><p>Dean had to actually place a hand over Gabriel’s mouth to get him to shut up. “Stop it. Stop it now.”</p><p>Gabriel pushed Dean’s hand away to reveal an all too amused smirk. “It’s working though, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes it is, you asshole,” Dean grumbled, turning from Gabriel and pulling Baby’s keys out from his pocket as he walked. “You coming or what?”</p><p>“Oh, Deano, Deano,” Dean could hear his teeth grinding together as Gabriel jogged up to his side with a shit-eating grin. “My little bro really left an impression on you, huh?”</p><p>“Not as much as you have,” Dean said with as fake as a smile as he could muster.</p><p>“Aw, really? You keep talking like that Deano, and you’re gonna make me blush.”</p><p>“<em>Gabe-</em>”</p><p>“Ooh, you finally reached the nickname basis!”</p><p>“<em>Gabriel.”</em></p><p><em>“</em>Yeah, Deano?”</p><p>“I swear to <em>God</em>, any more jokes like that and you’re walking to this damn restaurant…”</p><p> </p><p>* * *</p><p> </p><p>The sun had mostly set now, nothing more than a light shading of reds and oranges keeping the inky blackness of night from taking over the whole sky. It was California so naturally, it was still much too warm for night but was at least a more bearable temperature than it was during the day. By that, Dean means he can walk around in his leather jacket without feeling like the inside is drenched in sweat.</p><p>“This definitely the place?” Dean asked as he gently closed the driver's side door to Baby, wincing when Gabriel all but slammed the passenger door back into place. “Dude, c’mon!”</p><p>“Ah, you’re one of <em>those</em> guys,” Gabriel said with a light chuckle, only proving to annoy Dean more. “And yes Deano, this is definitely the place. C’mon.”</p><p>Dean sighed as Gabriel picked up the pace, waving at Dean to match his speed as he darted towards the restaurant. Dean ignored him and headed straight towards the entrance of the restaurant, one hand wrapped around the handle to the door and ready to pull when Gabriel’s hand grabbed tight around his arm.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Dean asked him, frowning down at the hand on his arm. “Aren’t we supposed to be <em>‘fixing the problem?’</em>”</p><p>“Okay, first of all, that impression of me? Uncanny. Secondly, don’t you wanna see the show?”</p><p>“The… Show?”</p><p>“C’mon,” Gabriel waved him away from the door, ducking down and darting past the glass windows of the restaurant as quickly as he can. “<em>C’mon,</em>” Gabriel repeated in a hushed whisper, leaning himself against the corner of the building, out of sight from the windows.</p><p>“<em>Jesus, </em>what have I gotten myself into…” Dean whispered to himself, shaking his head at Gabriels gestures to practically crawl across the ground to him. Gabriel had his head poked around the corner to the building, peering into it’s darkened windows. “<em>What the hell are you doing</em>?” Dean hissed at him, looking around for people that might be watching them. They probably thought they were planning to rob the damn place…</p><p>“Take a look,” Gabriel told him with a grin, pointing into the restaurant. Dean sighed heavily, doing as he was told and bringing his face closer to the window, straining to see what Gabriel was showing him.</p><p>It was Castiel, sat by himself on a vinyl wooden table for two. He was dressed up in a pale blue button-down shirt and dark dress pants, maybe too fancy for a casual burger place, but it suited him. Even from here, Dean could see how nervous the poor guy was; hunched over the table and playing with the bottle of beer in front of him, picking absentmindedly at the label as he looked around the restaurant. Every now and then Castiel’s head would swivel towards the entrance to the restaurant, no doubt waiting for Dean’s arrival that, if it hadn’t been for Gabriel's suggestion, would never have happened.</p><p>“Alright,” Dean announced, leaning back from the window. “C’mon, let's get inside before he sees us.”</p><p>“What?” Gabriel exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm and yanking him back. “No! We gotta watch this!”</p><p>“Watch <em>what?</em>”</p><p>Gabriel huffed at him. “Watch the drama! The comedy! We’ve already lived through this moment, don’t you wanna watch it happen to them, too? I wish I could have seen what <em>my</em> face looked like when I saw you, you telling me you don’t wanna see Sammys face when he gets here, excited as a little puppy dog, and he sees Cassie sitting there? This is one of the moments where you wish you had a camera on you! Oh! Actually-“</p><p>“<em>No,” </em>Dean hissed at him, grabbing at the arm that was reaching for his phone, no doubt to record his poor brother. “We are <em>not </em>recording them. <em>And</em>, only <em>I </em>get to call him Sammy, got that? It’s Sam to you.”</p><p>“Fine! Geez, someone's touchy…” Gabriel muttered. Dean only released his grip on his arm once he took his hand out of his pocket, making sure the phone wasn’t in his hand. “But we <em>are</em> gonna watch this. <em>Right?</em>”</p><p>“Don’t you think it’s a little cru-“ Dean didn’t get to finish his sentence as Gabriel grabbed his arm, yanking him fully around the corner of the restaurant and pushing him flat against the wall. “Dude! What the hell are you doing?!”</p><p>“<em>Shhh! Shut up</em>!” Gabriel whisper-yelled at him, peering back around the corner then quickly ducking his head back. “Your brother just arrived.”</p><p>Dean’s movement was synchronized with Gabriel’s, immediately turning and leaning their foreheads against the window, placing their hands around the sides of their faces to get a better look inside.</p><p>The two watched as Sam approached the service counter by the door. Sam wasn’t quite as dressed up as Castiel was; in his red and black chequered flannel shirt and a pair of blue jeans. To Dean’s delight, he most definitely <em>had </em>washed his hair for the occasion. “Bet he even used the fancy shampoo…” Dean mumbled to himself.  Dean watched Sam exchange a few words with the waitress before she picked up an extra menu and gestured for Sam to follow her.</p><p>“Oh, this is it,” Gabriel whispered in delight as Sam approached Castiel, who was sat with his back to the entrance. “Here’s the big finale…”</p><p>The waitress arrived at the table first, placing down the menu and gesturing to the empty seat. Sam scooted past her as she walked back down the walkway, standing in front of Castiel with his usual charming smile ready. Then, the two locked eyes and…</p><p>“There it is!” Gabriel was trying his best to keep his laughter at bay.</p><p>Dammit. Dean had to give it to him, this was <em>pretty</em> funny… The smile slipped from Sam’s face agonizingly slow, the most immense look of bewilderment he thinks he’s ever seen on his little brother's face. His head turned back to the service counter, then back to Castiel, then back to the service counter, then back to Castiel, wondering if there had been some kind of mix up with the reservation. Poor Castiel looked just as baffled, looking up at Sam as if he was wondering if Dean didn’t look quite as he remembered.</p><p>“Okay, okay, I think we’ve been evil enough,” Gabriel said after he had gotten over his fit of hushed, snorted laughter. “Let’s go save these poor bastards.”</p><p>Gabriel threw open the door to the restaurant in a style as dramatically as only he could, practically prancing over to Sam and Castiel’s table. Dean quickly followed behind him, whispering a hushed apology to the stunned waitress at the service-counter as he hurried by.</p><p>“Gabriel?” Castiel’s voice dripped with confusion, his eyed drifting over to Dean beside him and practically lighting up at the sight of him. “Dean!” Castiel stood so abruptly from his chair that it skidded a good few yards behind him.</p><p>“Dean?” Sam parroted Castiel as he also stood from his chair, though a fair bit calmer than Castiel did. “What are you doing here? Why… What is <em>happening?”</em></p><p>“Bit of a funny story,” Gabriel said, swinging an arm over Sam’s shoulders. Well, as far as he could reach, anyway. “Why don’t I tell you it over some coffee, hm? My treat. We’ll leave these lovebirds to it.”</p><p>“<em>Gabriel!” </em>Dean and Castiel hissed at the same time.</p><p>“You know what, just…” Dean sighed, waving dismissively at Gabriel. “You good with this, Sammy?”</p><p>“Uh…” Is all Sam could say at first. “I was kinda supposed to go out with Gabriel anyway, so…”</p><p>“Just… Please don’t get my brother killed,” Dean pointed a stern finger at Gabriel, who grinned toothily at him.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Deano,” Gabriel told him, turning and steering a confused but curious Sam towards the exit. “I know a <em>great </em>little coffee shop we can go to…”</p><p>Dean shook his head, a <strike>small</strike> <em>big </em>part of him happy to be free from Gabriel. That’s when his brain reminded him that Castiel was <em>right </em>there, just behind him. Dean turned sheepishly to find Castiel’s soft blue eyes trained on him, alight with both puzzlement and amusement.</p><p>“Hey, Cas.” Dean breathed out awkwardly. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”</p><p>That seemed to break the ice a little as Castiel chuckled warmly, looking down at the table with a smile on his face. “You, uh… That seats free if you want to sit down.” Castiel offered, wondering how long Dean was going to stand uncomfortably by the table.</p><p>Dean lowered himself down into the seat, scooching himself closer to the table until he was properly tucked in, clearing the way for the waiters and waitresses that needed to walk behind him.</p><p>“So, is this funny story actually a <em>funny </em>story, or Gabriel’s definition of a funny story?” Castiel asked Dean once he was seated comfortably. “It seems like you’ve got a good understanding of my brother's personality already.”</p><p>“Kinda hard not to,” Dean said with a click of his mouth. “Though, I suppose it was <em>kinda </em>funny. You look about as confused as I felt, anyway.”</p><p>“It <em>was</em> a bit of shock,” Castiel agreed with a tilt of his head. “But it’ll make for a good first date story.”</p><p>“Oh, it’ll be one to tell the grandkids, that’s for sure,” Dean joked. To Dean’s delight, Castiel at least seemed to find him funny, shaking his head as he laughed. “It actually all started because me and Sam ordered the same thing.”</p><p>“You did?”</p><p>“Yeah—Well, actually, <em>you </em>made my order, so I guess this is kind of your fault.”</p><p>“Ouch,” Castiel deadpanned in his gravelly tone. “How did me ordering you the same thing as your brother end up with our dates being mixed up?”</p><p>“According to Gabriel, you were <em>so </em>busy talking about me-“ Dean fought back a grin at the splotches of red appearing on Castiel’s cheeks. “-That he mixed up our orders once they were prepared. So Sam got <em>my </em>cup with <em>your </em>number on it-“</p><p>“And you got Sam’s order with Gabriel’s number on it…” Castiel finished his sentence for him, burying his face in his hands in horror. “Oh no, this is so embarrassing… Both as your date <em>and </em>your barista…”</p><p>“Yeah, well, imagine my confusion when I text who I think is <em>you</em> only to get… Fully unfiltered, <em>very </em>forward Gabriel.”</p><p>“Oh no…” Castiel groaned again, burying his face into hands. “I don’t want to know what your impression of me was after <em>that</em> text exchange.”</p><p>“Makes me concerned for my brother, let me tell you,” Dean said with a grin. “Although I suppose it’s <em>somewhat</em> of a comfort that I know Gabriel isn’t going after Sam only for a booty call-“</p><p>“Excuse me, gentlemen?”</p><p>Both Dean and Castiel startled at the voice by their side, too engaged in conversation to notice the waitress's reappearance at their table. Castiel fought hard to keep the grin off his face at Dean’s embarrassment from being caught out in the middle of such a sentence.</p><p>“Sorry to disturb you, but I was just wondering if the rest of your party will be coming back, or if this table is okay for you two?” The waitress asked, a gleaming smile plastered to her face as she addressed the two of them.</p><p>“No, uh—This is good, thanks. It’s just us two.” Dean said, eyes flickering between the waitress and Castiel.</p><p>“Well in that case, would you like any drinks? Or perhaps are you ready to order?”</p><p>“Oh-“ Dean picked up the menu on his table in a fluster, eyes rapidly scanning over the tiny writing. Goddamit California with your too many options… “I’ll just have a bottle of whatever local beer you have and as for food, uh… Cas? You wanna save me here?”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Castiel asked with a smile. “The last time I picked something for you, it ended in disaster.”</p><p>“Are you calling our date a disaster already?” Dean said with a joking smile, placing his menu back down. “Still, I trust your judgment.”</p><p>Castiel didn’t even bother looking at the menu, picking up both his and Dean’s and handing it over to the waitress, who stood with her pen and pad at the ready. “I think…Two double bacon cheeseburgers with fries on the side, please. Oh, and, extra bacon for him.”</p><p>“Got it,” The waitress said, scribbling away at the pad in her hands. “I’ll get your food out as soon as possible.”</p><p>“Extra bacon, huh?” Dean asked once the waitress had walked away, giving Castiel a satisfied nod. “Be careful there Cas, or I might just fall in love with you.”</p><p>“If that’s the case, I’ll make sure I have a fresh batch waiting for you whenever you come to the coffee shop.”</p><p>“Oh, trust me, Cas. Bacon won't be the reason I’m coming back.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>“Hey, no, you got me <em>completely </em>wrong.” Dean insisted, hands in the air as he gestured with his chin at his empty plate. “I’m not saying the burger was <em>bad</em>. It was good, really! All I’m saying is you haven't tried a truly <em>great</em> burger till you’ve tried one of mine.”</p><p>Castiel hummed thoughtfully, picking up one of the few remaining fries on his plate and swiping it across the depleting puddle of ketchup before popping it into his mouth. “I’ll have to take you up on that offer. I must admit, red meat is a particular weakness of mine.”</p><p>“Makes sense as to why you picked this place for our date then- Ah, excuse me- yours and <em>Sammy’s </em>date.”</p><p>Castiel grunted, picking up his half-emptied beer bottle and taking a quick swig. “In my defense, your brother is much more well-mannered than Gabriel. How was I supposed to know it wasn’t you?”</p><p>“Guess I can give you that. Although, Sammy did say that Gabriel’s texting was ‘a lot more reserved.’ I guess we all got hints something wasn’t right, huh?” Dean said.</p><p>“It all worked out in the end though, didn’t it?”</p><p>“Well, I’m here with you, so I’d say so.”</p><p>Castiel smiled kindly at Dean, averting his gaze down to where his hands rested in his lap. “Um, so… When I was messaging your brother- again assuming this was you- he said was in college?”</p><p>“That he is,” Dean confirmed with a proud smile. “Kid’s on the last year of his scholarship now. Sometimes I can't quite believe it myself. Not that he wouldn’t make it, that is. Guy’s a genius, course he would. He’s just… Guess time just flew by.”</p><p>“And what about you?” Castiel inquired. “Are you in Stanford, too?”</p><p>“Ah, no,” Dean dismissed with a wave of his hand. “College? Me? Nah, Sammy got the brains of the family, I got the good looks. Can’t have both, right?”</p><p>“I went to Stanford,” Castiel said, his brows burrowing. “Are you saying I’m not attractive?”</p><p>Castiel’s expression was so neutral that Dean couldn’t get a single read on what he was thinking. Dean’s eyes widened in his panic, his brain scrambling to find a way to get out of the mess he had just made for himself. “Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant! Y-You look great! That was just supposed to be a dig at Sammy, I didn’t mean-“</p><p>“Dean-“ Castiel interrupted him, breaking out into a gummy smile. “I was just joking.”</p><p>Dean sighed in immense relief, leaning back in his chair away from the table. “You asshole,” Dean grumbled, fake glaring at Cas across the table. “I thought I’d screwed up then.”</p><p>“My apologies,” Castiel said in a tone that was clear he was in no way sorry.</p><p>“Alright then smartypants, what did you study at Stanford?”</p><p>“Ecology,” Castiel answered.</p><p>“Oh yeah?” Dean pressed on. “What made you take up that?”</p><p>“Back where I grew up, we had this big garden. Filled to the brim with the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen. My parents, they… They kept us to a very strict guideline. But the one thing they ‘gifted’ to us was an hour of free time in the garden. Me, I would sit out there and just… Watch the bees. To witness the way they work, all they do to keep themselves alive, I wonder if they even know how much we rely on them?</p><p>“I always tried to encourage my family to see them the way I did, but my brothers… most of my brothers, they were strict followers of my parent's guidelines, so they wouldn’t even bother <em>using</em> their free-time. I used to be like them. I <em>was</em>. After what had happened to Lucifer-“</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Dean stopped him, leaning forward and folding his hands together on the table in front of him. “Did you just say <em>Lucifer?</em>”</p><p>“One of the many downsides to having near cult-like religious parents,” Castiel replied with a grimace. “My brothers and I were all named after angels; Michael was their firstborn, then Lucifer after, then Gabriel, then Raphael, then finally me.”</p><p>“Arent those…Archangel names?” Dean guessed.</p><p>“They are, yes. All except me. My parents never said it, but I think I wasn’t exactly ‘planned’. I believe they wanted the four children to name after the Archangels, and then I came along… They wanted to stick with the theme, of course. I was born on a Thursday, and so… There was my name. Castiel, the angel of Thursday.”</p><p>“I mean, it’s a unique name Cas, I’ll give you that,” Dean said. “Sorry, you were saying about your brother? What happened to him?”</p><p>“Lucifer was… He didn’t agree with how our parents were raising us. He thought they were controlling, and that they weren’t letting us live the lives we deserved. Back then, I still blindly followed my parent's orders and… I couldn’t agree with him. Gabriel was always a little <em>rebellious </em>too, but not to the extent Lucifer was.</p><p>“It started off small. Back-talk, at first. Refusing to listen to our parents. Eventually, he stopped showing up to our home-schooling lessons altogether. He started sneaking out of the house, meeting up with people that… That people like ‘<em>us</em>’ weren’t supposed to mingle with. I was young when it happened, couldn’t have been more than eight or so, but, one night…” Castiel paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I had never heard such yelling like that, Dean. Gabriel was trying to shield me from most of it, I think he was worried things were going to get violent. So, when Lucifer turned to Michael for help… I don’t know what he thought would happen. We <em>loved</em> him. He was our brother, how could we not? But Michael believed in rules, and back then, so did I. Dad told Michael to get Lucifer out of his house, and… That’s exactly what he did.”</p><p>“Jesus, Cas.” Dean breathed out. “How old was he?”</p><p>“About sixteen,” Castiel answered, eyes lowering to the table. “It was the last time I ever saw him. Much too young to be kicked out of his home like that.”</p><p>“Man, that’s…” Dean trailed off, searching for the words to say. “Wow…”</p><p>“I hope it doesn’t make you see me any different,” Castiel admitted, eyes trained on the bottle in his hands.</p><p>“Because of what?” Dean asked, perplexed. “Because you didn’t speak up? Cas, what happened to your brother wasn’t your fault. If you had said something, it would have made it worse. You probably would have been thrown out yourself.”</p><p>“But what if it was your brother?” Castiel challenged, gathering enough courage to look up at Dean from his bottle. “If it had been Sam your father was throwing out? Would you have said nothing? Sat back and watched it happen?”</p><p>“I…” Dean stuttered, trying to find the right words to tip-toe through this delicate situation. “I don’t think I can compare it that way, Cas. Sammy to me is…”</p><p>How could he explain this to Cas? While it was true that they had already been discussing a topic heavier than your usual first date conversation, what he was about to say was something he didn’t tell just <em>anyone</em>.</p><p>But Castiel wasn’t just anyone.</p><p>“Sammy isn’t just my brother. He’s everything to me, Cas. It was always just me and him.”</p><p>“What about your parents?”</p><p>Dean sighed, picking up his beer bottle and downing a few gulps of the bitter liquid, wishing for a stiffer drink. He needed something a bit stronger to get him through this…</p><p>“My parents weren’t perfect, y’know? But they were as close to it as you could probably get. This was back when I was… About four, maybe? Sammy was just a baby. One-night mom went in to check on him. I was already in bed at this point and Dad was fast asleep in front of the tv, having spent the night reminiscing in his memories… He was a soldier. Marine. But he left that life for mom, to help raise me and Sammy.</p><p>“Then… There was an electrical fault in the wiring. A single spark, Cas, and it changed our lives. The fire spread quick, too damn quick. Mom tried getting Sammy out first, but… It got her. The screaming is what woke Dad up. He rushed upstairs to see… Well, that shits gotta haunt you for the rest of your life. He managed to do what mom couldn’t and he got Sammy out of the room. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper- or I used to be- at least. But the smoke… God, the smoke… I couldn’t breathe. I got up to see what’s happening, and then Dad’s in front of me with Sammy in his arms. He thrusts Sam into my hands and he’s shouting at me to run, get my brother out the house and God, I can barely even carry the kid at this point, but it doesn’t <em>matter. </em>Coz I’m his big brother, there’s no way in <em>hell</em> I’m letting anything happen to him.”</p><p>Castiel doesn’t say a single word throughout this. He doesn’t need to. He just reaches a hand across the table and places it atop Dean’s.</p><p>“We got out, but the house was burnt to nothing more than ashes and… and mom went with it. I didn’t know it at the time, but mom was practically the only thing keeping dad together. I thought… I <em>guess,</em> that part of me that was still a kid hoped that Dad would at least keep it together enough for the sake of me and Sammy. For a while, he mourned with us. Half the time with a bottle in his hands. Then a few months later, he enlists back into the Marines. I suppose it was his coping method- too busy being told what to do to think about everything. Didn’t give much of a thought as to how this was gonna screw up me and Sammy big time…”</p><p>“He went back?” Castiel asked, the grip on Dean’s hand tightening for a moment. “How? I thought single parents couldn’t enlist?”</p><p>“Yeah, well… That wasn’t gonna stop Dad,” Dean replied dryly. “We didn’t have any relatives. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts, nothin’. But Dad did have one friend from back in the marines. Uncle Bobby.”</p><p>“I thought you said you didn’t have any uncles?” Castiel asked.</p><p>“I don’t. He’s not an uncle by blood, but that doesn’t matter. Family is more than blood. Dad was dead set on going back, and there’s no way Bobby was gonna say no to looking after us. He wouldn’t leave us like that. So, Bobby took care of us while Dad was away. And you know what? That was the best damn year of my life.”</p><p>“It only lasted a year?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dean said bitterly. “Dad didn’t cope as well as he thought he would back in the Marines. He used to be one of the best, but after what happened? He could never go back to being the man he once was. Apparently, some asshole in his unit said something that Dad couldn’t let go. He fucking <em>lost</em> it. Pounded on the poor guy. I was there listening when Bobby got the phone call… Dude’s face was smashed in so bad you could barely recognize him. Next thing we know, Dads being discharged, for obvious reasons.”</p><p>“That’s awful…” Castiel sympathizes, brows furrowed deeply as he listened to Dean’s story. “How old were you then?”</p><p>“Six, I think. Sammy was only two. I didn’t really understand what was going on.”</p><p>“You were six, that’s understandable,” Castiel said.</p><p>“Yeah, well, looking back its crazy to think that I was <em>happy </em>when Bobby told me Dad was coming back for us,” Dean snorted before lifting the bottle in his free hand to his lips. “I couldn’t understand why Bobby was mad with Dad… All I cared about was that I had my dad back. I didn’t know the dad I was missing died the same night mom did.”</p><p>“Oh, Dean…” Dean shrugged at the pity in Castiel’s voice.</p><p>“Like I said; that time I had with Bobby was probably the best of my childhood, and I didn’t even <em>know</em> it at the time. Dad comes back and swoops me and Sammy away, packs us in Baby-“</p><p>“Baby?” Castiel asks.</p><p>“Oh, right,” Dean said with a chuckle. He forgets not everyone has had the pleasure of acquainting themselves with Baby yet. “My car. It was Dad’s car, originally. ’67 Chevrolet Impala, sleek black and not a scratch on her. Most beautiful piece of engineering you’ll ever lay your eyes on.”</p><p>“I confess I don’t know all that much about cars,” Castiel said, smiling at the clear pride and care in Dean’s voice as he talked about his vehicle. “I’d love to see her one day.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ll make sure of it,” Dean promises, the flirtatious smile on his face slipping slightly as he remembers what comes next in his story. “We loved that car as kids. Mostly because besides from the one that burned down, it was the only true <em>home </em>we had.”</p><p>“You never got a new house?”</p><p>“Nope.” Dean pops the ‘p’.</p><p>“Not even an apartment?” Castiel asks.</p><p>“Nope,” Dean repeats.</p><p>“Then… Where did you all stay?”</p><p>“Motel rooms, mostly,” Dean answers nonchalantly. “Dad couldn’t go back to the army, so he found the next best thing; shitty, border-line illegal security jobs. He couldn’t really be hired by the ‘good’ one’s coz of his little stint in the Marines. Most of the jobs didn’t last long because of their ‘nature’, so we bounced around state to state, motel room to motel room. Me and Sammy would attend whatever school we could get into, and…and it would tear me apart, coz Sammy was so <em>damn</em> smart, but the poor kid isn’t even at some schools for more than two weeks! He wanted to make friends so bad, but why bother when you know you’re gonna be moving on soon.”</p><p>“And what about you?” Castiel asked. “You went through the same experience as your brother. It wasn’t fair for you either.”</p><p>“I…” Dean began. “I’m not important. I didn’t care if I was athletic. If I did well enough to be considered ‘smart’. The <em>only </em>thing that I cared about is that <em>I’m </em>his older brother. <em>I’m </em>the one that looked after him. <em>I </em>was the one to make sure he ate three times a day. <em>I </em>was the one that got him to school. <em>I </em>was the one that attended the parent-teacher conferences.”</p><p>“Dean, that… That shouldn’t have been your job,” Castiel tells him, a growing look of horror on his face. “Your job as a brother, it’s… It’s to <em>annoy </em>your little brother, to embarrass him, to <em>love </em>him, to grow up alongside him. You weren’t your brother’s older brother; you were his <em>parent.</em>”</p><p>“That’s just how it was, Cas. Dad didn’t have time for that shit. By the time we came home from school, he was heading off to his night shifts. That was until…”</p><p>“Until what?” Castiel presses on, leaning closer to the table, closer to Dean. Dean shakes his head, clenching his jaw tight and gritting his teeth, in no way ready to say what he’s about to say.</p><p>But he does anyway.</p><p>“Job like Dad had? There’s risks. If you’re working security, it generally means you’re protecting something others want. <em>Especially </em>if you work in the kinda job market Dad did… I was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and I’d be lying if the thoughts of college didn’t once exist as a flimsy dream in my head. A normal life... Deep down I knew that would never happen. My job was to look after Sammy, how could I do that in college? Sammy though… That dream was as real and concrete in his mind as reality. Only thirteen and he’s already decided he’s going to Stanford, that he’s gonna become a lawyer and make the world a better place. He’s telling me it doesn’t matter if we don’t have the money for it, because he’s gonna work his <em>ass</em> off and <em>prove </em>to all those colleges out there that <em>they </em>should be paying to teach him, otherwise they’d regret not giving him that chance of making the world a better place!”</p><p>“I know,” Castiel said gently, squeezing Dean’s hand under his own, his chest aching at the passionate look in Dean’s teary eyes. “I know.”</p><p>“All comes crumbling apart when Dad goes and gets himself shot. Couple of guys sneak in and Dad’s the one to catch them. He tries to be the hero and disarm them and then… he gets a bullet to the chest. They didn’t find him till the next morning.”</p><p>“Dean…” Castiel whispers his name because there’s nothing else he can say.</p><p>“I don’t even have time to mourn him. All I can think is ‘what the hell am I gonna do now?’ I took a walk through town to try and clear my thoughts and then there’s this overly enthusiastic guy shoving pamphlets in my face and telling me all about the benefits of joining the U.S army. I’m about to tell the guy to piss off and then… Then I start listening.”</p><p>“You didn’t…?” Castiel asked in defeat- as if he could change the past.</p><p>“It was the only thing that made sense,” Dean argues. “I didn’t do well in school, Cas. It wasn’t going to be easy for me to land a decent paying job. But the Army? So long as I’m fit and have some logic in my brain, they would take me. And that risk pay would go right to Sammy.” Dean jabbed at the air as he spoke. “Towards his upbringing. Towards his dream. If I had to follow in my Dad’s footsteps for it, so be it. And hey, it wasn’t all that bad.”</p><p>“It wasn’t?”</p><p>“Nah. Honestly? I kind of enjoyed myself. Hell, I’d even say I thrived there. Growing up, in the rare times I got to see Dad, all I did was follow his commands and answer with ‘Yes, sirs.’ I fit right in. It was where I was meant to be. And- before you say it, don’t thank me for my service. I just find it weird.”</p><p>Castiel chuckled quietly, thankful for the small comedic break. “So, are you uh… On leave right now?”</p><p>“Not quite,” Dean answered with a strained smile. “About… two years ago? Yeah, two years now. Sammy was still in his first year of college. Sending me letters whenever he can, calling me in the rare times he could reach me while out on deployment. Let me tell you man -- Iraq? Place is fucking hot as hell. There’s dust everywhere: in your eyes, in your ears, in your mouth amongst… other places where sand shouldn’t be. I was out on patrol at the time. Me, my good buddy Benny -we’re out there scanning the roads for mines. Next thing I know-” Dean makes a whistling sound, lifting up his shirt to reveal a jagged scar running along the right side of his ribs. “-There’s a bullet in my side and I drop.”</p><p>“You got <em>shot?!”</em></p><p>“Ambushed,” Dean replies. “Course, I don’t see much of it. At first, I don’t understand why I’m on the floor. Just felt like I got punched damn hard in the side. Benny’s pulling me by my armor, trying to get me behind cover. My units returning fire and I’m trying to get up but they’re screaming at me to keep my ass down. Course that’s when I feel what feels like warm water being poured on me and I have this weird, delirious moment where I’m wondering if it’s started raining or something. I look down and there’s just this big puddle of <em>red </em>spreading across my uniform. <em>Then </em>I put two and together and realize I’ve been shot.”</p><p>“It took you <em>that </em>long to realize?” Castiel asks in amusement. He quickly clamps his mouth shut in embarrassment when he realizes he was finding a horrific moment in Dean’s life funny.</p><p>“I said I was never the smartest,” Dean retaliates with a sly grin. “They patched me up as much as they could once the firefight was over. Medical care while out in the field is never the best but… It’ll save your life. Benny and the others managed to haul my ass back to camp. Damn bullet pierced my lung and it collapsed so… I was medically discharged. I was sent home.”</p><p>“You sound like you were disappointed with coming home?”</p><p>“Yeah, coz I didn’t <em>have </em>a home.” Dean answers.</p><p>“But surely you were happy that you got to see your brother and Bobby again?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Dean said, a soft smile on his face, both at the memory and the fact that Castiel cared enough to remember Bobby’s name. “But… A part of me was ashamed.”</p><p>“Of being injured?”</p><p>“I guess. I just… I didn’t know how to return to civilian life. The thought of settling down in a house of my own with a ‘<em>white picket fence’</em> and a boring office job, it just… I couldn’t do it. There were only three things in my life I was good at, Cas; Looking after my little brother, being a soldier, and keeping Baby working. I couldn’t make a job of the first one, my career as the second one was over, so…”</p><p>“You… Became a mechanic?” Castiel guessed with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>“Yeah. You should have heard how damn proud Sammy was when I told him. He offered me a place to stay in his apartment, said I could find work here in California… Maybe I should have taken his offer.”</p><p>“What?” With where Dean was going with the story, Castiel had assumed that it was how Dean had ended up here now. “You didn’t?”</p><p>“Maybe it was selfish of me,” Dean admitted. “I just… I wasn’t used to staying in one place. Growing up, we moved from state to state. In the army, I went from training camp to military bases, to deployments.”</p><p>“Not one to stay still?”</p><p>“No. I mean, every state has people with cars that need fixing, right? So… I rejected Sam’s offer and then I’m just reliving my childhood; living in motel rooms, sleeping on Baby’s leather seats when a room isn’t available. Sam though, he uh… He was <em>pissed </em>when he found out. He couldn’t understand why I’d live like that, rather than stay with him. Kid refused to speak to me for over a year…”</p><p>“Do you wish you’d taken his offer?” Castiel asked.</p><p>“Sometimes. Eventually, Sam offered an olive branch- He asked me if I wanted to come and visit and I agreed, but… I just haven’t found a reason to settle yet. Until then, I guess I’m just… roaming.”</p><p>Castiel nodded in understanding, but Dean would be a fool to pretend he didn’t see the sadness in Castiel’s eyes at his words.</p><p>“Then… How long are you staying here?” Castiel asked, and Dean's heart ached at the clear message in his voice.</p><p>‘<em>Why are we here if you’re just going to leave?’</em></p><p>“Honestly? I’m not too sure,” Dean told him. “My plan was to stay a few months at the least. I’ve got some money saved up and it <em>is </em>easier to stay at Sam’s instead of paying for a room every night. If some poor mechanic shop is fool enough to take me on? Then… We’ll see.”</p><p>Castiel nodded again, looking somewhat reassured, but the sting of disappointment lingered. “And I thought my family is complicated.”</p><p>“Shared trauma brings people closer,” Dean joked. Partly. “Sorry, I’ve been talking about myself too much, haven’t I?”</p><p>“It’s been a pleasure to hear your story,” Castiel reassured him, raising a hand and catching the eye of a passing waitress to order another beer for himself and Dean. “All you’ve done for your brother? You’re an incredible man, Dean.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say that…” Dean’s face burned at the compliment, unable to meet his date’s gaze. Thankfully, the waitress came by at that point with their beers, and Dean gratefully took the cold bottle from her hands. “How ‘bout I stop yakking about myself for now, hm? I wanna hear more about you.”</p><p>“What do you want to know?” Castiel asked, hand slipping away from Dean’s to wrap around his own bottle, leaning back in his chair and taking a refreshing sip. “I could offer you a story of my awful upbringing too if you want?”</p><p>Dean spluttered in his laughter, choking on the mouthful of beer he had taken as it slipped down his windpipe. “If it somehow leads to the story of how you went from studying Ecology at college to running a coffee shop with Gabriel? I’m all ears.”</p><p>“I suppose I can tell you that one,” Castiel agreed, tilting his head as he regarded Dean across the table. He had been on dates before, of course. Not many since he’s found his freedom, but some. During those dates, not <em>one </em>of them was as interested in his past as Dean was. It was endearing and made his heart beat all the bit harder every time he felt Dean’s leg brush against his under the table, and every time he looked at Dean’s charming smile and eager eyes. And yet his brain is asking ‘<em>why?’ </em>Why, if Dean does not plan to stay, does he care?</p><p>He doesn’t voice any of this out loud. Not when Dean’s leaning forward, disregarding his beer as he readies himself for Cas’s story.</p><p>He really is in deep.</p><p>“After hearing your story, it seems selfish of me to say I wish my parents <em>hadn’t</em> been around,” Castiel begins to say. “Normal schooling was forbidden, as they would fill our heads with <em>‘fake garbage’, </em>aka the truth that went against their teachings. I said before we were home-schooled, but you could barely call it that. Basic English and Maths, we were lucky to get that. Other than that, it was mostly their religious teachings. Science was off the table. At least, it was, until Gabriel noticed I was taking an interest in the Garden. In the bees. I wanted to know how they’re alive, how they all work together. I wanted an answer more in-depth than ‘Because God grants it.’ Gabriel could have gotten himself into deep trouble for doing what he did. I was terrified when he began sneaking out. I thought he was following Lucifer’s path, but…”</p><p>Castiel stops, and the look Dean sees on Castiel’s face is one he’s familiar with. The one he sees on Sammy’s face when he catches him looking at him. That look of admiration. Of brotherly love. Of <em>thankfulness.</em></p><p>“Gabriel was sneaking out to the library,” Castiel continues. “Checking out books for me. I didn’t touch them, at first. Too terrified of the consequences if my parents found out, but… eventually, the curiosity got the better of me and, well, you know the saying.”</p><p>“Curiosity killed the… ‘<em>Cas?’” </em>Dean made a dreadful shot at a joke, the unsure smile on his face dropping away. “You know what, forget I said that—That was a terrible joke to make at a time like this…”</p><p>“Thankfully, it didn’t kill me.” The corner of Cas’s mouth twitched at the corner. “I wasn’t caught, and neither was Gabriel. Instead… I applied to Stanford once the time was right. I didn’t tell them a thing until I was accepted. I didn’t get a scholarship like Sam, but… I was <em>going </em>to find a way to make it work. In that moment when I told them? It was then I realized- This whole time I had feared it was Gabriel following Lucifer’s path, but there I stood telling my family how I felt, my brothers looking at me in disdain and I knew… It was me. I was the one copying Lucifer. I had become rebel of the family.”</p><p>“You came to your senses.” Dean comforted Castiel, just as he had for him. “You wanted a life that was your own, not your parents.”</p><p>“My family didn’t see it that way. I had been ready to flee the house, to leave for Stanford and never look back. That had been the end of my plan, though. I had to find a way to pay for my college degree, for my accommodation, my food. My parents might have been insane, but they at least provided me with those necessities growing up. Yet, out of all I could and couldn’t think of, I had always seen myself taking this journey alone. I told my parents I was leaving, and then… there was Gabriel was by my side, saying he was going with me. They didn’t care. Neither did our brothers. As far as they cared, we were now outsiders. We were no longer part of the family. We left, and we never looked back.”</p><p>“You did the right thing, Cas,” Dean told him. “You <em>and</em> Gabe. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s a good big brother.”</p><p>“I’m definitely telling him you said that.”</p><p><em>‘Traitor’, </em>Dean thinks.</p><p>“Did Gabe go to college with you?” Dean asked.</p><p>“No, he didn’t. He never had any plans to. A bit like you, I suppose.”</p><p>“Cas, I mean this in the nicest way- Don’t <em>ever</em> compare me to your brother again,” Dean insisted, relieved to see the corner of Cas’s eyes crinkle instead of furrow in offense on behalf of his brother. “Otherwise, it’ll just make us dating plain weird.”</p><p>“I’ll try to remember that,” Castiel promised. “Though-“</p><p>“Dude, c’mon!”</p><p>“I’m just telling you what happened,” Castiel defended himself with a shrug of his shoulders. “Gabriel was focused on getting me through college, so he took up a job at a local coffee shop. I offered to join part-time with him, help bring in some extra money, but he refused. He wanted me to focus on my studies. So, I did. I threw myself into my studies, I wanted to make sure Gabriel’s sacrifices would be worth it. I came out the other side with my Ph.D.-“</p><p>“Ph.D.?” Dean exclaimed. “Oh shit, should I have been calling you Doctor?”</p><p>“No! No, please don’t do that.” Castiel hurried to shut down that idea. “I’d really rather you stick to my name.”</p><p>“Oh. Oh, wait, does that mean you only like being called Castiel? Ah crap, I’ve been calling you Cas this whole time, I didn’t think. Sorry, I’ll-“</p><p>“Dean,” Castiel grumbled out his name in a firm tone. “It’s okay. I… I actually quite like the nickname you’ve given me.”</p><p>“Oh. Well, that’s… That’s good. Cas. I… Keep interrupting you.”</p><p>“No more than I did,” Castiel said. “But, yes, I am a Doctor in name. <em>Doctor</em> Castiel Novak, though not a medical one.”</p><p>“Wait-” Dean interrupted <em>again.</em> “You know what I just realized?” Dean said, his voice alight with wonderment.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I didn’t know your last name till now,” Dean answers. “And I still haven’t told you mine, have I?”</p><p>“I… Don’t think so?”</p><p>“Dean Winchester,” Dean said with the polite business smile he’s seen Sammy use with his professors, sticking out a hand for Castiel to shake. “Nice to meet you, <em>Doctor </em>Castiel Novak.”</p><p>Castiel rolled his eyes, but there was a small hitch to his lips as he clasped Dean’s hand in his, giving it a firm shake. “Pleasure is all mine, Mr. Winchester.”</p><p>‘<em>Oh,’ </em>Dean thought to himself. ‘<em>So that’s how he wants to play it? It’s not fair to say that kinda stuff when you have a voice that sounds like you gargle rocks every morning.’</em></p><p>“You know, funny thing,” Dean continued to tease, leaning over the table with his hands still locked in Cas’s, his mouth close to Castiel’s ear as he whispered. “Doctor Sexy is one of my biggest guilty pleasures.”</p><p>That did the trick. At least, judging by the solid thump he heard from Castiel’s knee hitting the underside of the table. Dean leaned back with an all too satisfied smirk, an arrogant feeling of pride swelling in his chest as he catches sight of Cas’s blown-out pupils, the crystal blue of his eyes now no more than a thin ring around the over-powering circle of black at the center.</p><p>At the same time, those eyes were sending a clear message of ‘<em>You asshole…’</em></p><p>And Dean was <em>loving </em>it.</p><p>“Anyway, you were saying, Doctor Castiel?” Dean encouraged him on like the asshole he was, pretending he wasn’t even the slightest bit affected as Castiel was. Cas narrowed his eyes at him, clearing his throat awkwardly and adjusting himself on his seat.</p><p>“As it turns out…” Castiel continued, though he was still somewhat glaring at Dean as he spoke. “Gabriel fell in love with his work. During my time at college, he realized that it was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Except, he wanted to be the owner of his <em>own </em>coffee shop. After everything he had done for me, making sure my dream came true… I was going to do all I could to help <em>his dream </em>become a reality, too.</p><p>“Gabriel fought me on that. Said I should be looking for work in my field. I wouldn’t have it. I helped him find a little run down, abandoned cake shop in the center of town. We bought some paints and some furniture, some equipment, and the rights to the building. Gabriel decided on the theme. <em>Insisted </em>that we name the store ‘<em>Heavens Gate’ </em>since it's ‘<em>going to be run by two angels.’”</em></p><p><em>“</em>Gabe knows you guys aren’t <em>actually </em>angels, right?”</p><p>“I think a part of him believes we were reincarnated from them.” Castiel joked along with him.</p><p>“Well, <em>Gabriel </em>certainly isn’t,” Dean said. “You on the other hand? I can practically see the halo on your head and the fluffy wings behind you. Quite frankly, if someone told me you were, I’d believe ‘em. See, I don’t believe in God, Cas. But after meeting you? I may have to rethink that.”</p><p>At first, Castiel said nothing. What was there to say to that? Dean didn’t speak another word. He didn’t need to. He just watched Castiel watching him. He stared into the endless ocean contained within those eyes as they studied him, wishing to know the thoughts that were racing behind them. Castiel’s mouth perked up in the smallest of smiles, grabbing the bottle in front of him and chugging down the last of his beer like he was man in a desert dying of thirst. He slammed the bottle down harder than he intended, but neither flinched. His eyes were on Dean’s again, empty bottle held loosely in his hands as he asked,</p><p>“Should we get the bill?”</p><p>* * *</p><p>From outside, the engine of the Impala roared as it trailed along Stanford’s streets, disrupting the mostly quiet neighborhoods as they drove by. From the inside, the noise of the car was a gentle purr that sent vibrations rocking up through the chassis of the car, which Castiel could feel as he ran his fingers along the door of the car, smiling at the sight of a few army men figures jammed into the cigarette tray. The cassette tape Dean had playing had been turned down low, a calming melody of rock songs serenading their night.</p><p>“You were right,” Castiel tells Dean, who takes his eyes off the road to glance over at him. “This <em>is </em>a very beautiful car.”</p><p>“Damn right,” Dean said with pride, softly patting the dash of his Baby. “She’s carried us across the country more times than I can count. Never complains.”</p><p>“I imagine you take good care of her,” Castiel said.</p><p>“I wouldn’t be a very good mechanic if I didn’t, would I?”</p><p>“I suppose that’s true. But still, this car is special to you, isn’t it?” Castiel asked.</p><p>“Yeah… She is. After all the shit that happened with my dad, I… He was still my dad, y’know?”</p><p> “And this car reminds you of your father?”</p><p>“It was the one thing we could agree on,” Dean agreed, a tender smile on his face as he kept his eyes trained on the asphalt in front of him. “We always had to keep Baby in tip-top shape. Always.”</p><p>“It’s good to hear you had some good memories of your father,” Castiel found his gaze wandering back to the window next to him, watching the sparsely placed houses zoom past. “Thank you for offering me a ride home, Dean. It’s much nicer than sitting awkwardly in a taxi for a good twenty minutes.”</p><p>“Course, Cas. It’s no problem,” Dean said, his fingers drumming along the steering wheel. “I… Shit, I hope I’m not being too forward here, Cas, but… Would it be selfish of me to say I’m not quite ready for our date to end yet?”</p><p>Dean’s eyes flicked from the road to Cas’s face, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he awaited Castiel’s reaction. Dean may believe himself to be a man that most swooned over, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he was able to say such a thing to Cas in the full confidence it would work. Hell, Dean wasn’t even much of a date kind of guy. But this was <em>Cas</em>. Cas had him thinking differently. Cas brought out feelings in him that he thought he had buried enough far down, feelings that dug up wishes that he knows he can never have.</p><p>“If it does make you selfish, then I guess it makes me selfish too,” Castiel replied.</p><p>Dean nodded, his mind racing as his fingers continued to drum to the beat of his music against his steering wheel.</p><p>“You mind if we take a little detour?”</p><p>* * *</p><p>“<em>You? </em>I don’t believe you. Not one bit.” Castiel said between fits of laughter as Dean pulled into an empty field, switching the stick next to the wheel to ‘Park’ and switching off the engine. Now with the purr of her engine silenced, the only sound to be heard was the insects chirping away within the field, and the sound of Castiel’s rumbling laughter.</p><p>“I’m telling you, it’s true!” Dean shot back; his voice laced with his own laughter in response to Castiel’s disbelieving chuckles at his story. “I was nineteen, on my first leave! I was only looking for a quick fling, something simple and… vanilla. But then I met Rhonda Hurley…”</p><p>“I just can’t see you accepting such a request. You? Dean Winchester? In a pair of <em>pink panties?”</em></p><p>“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, okay? Yeah, they were pink. <em>And </em>they were satiny. But you know what?”</p><p>“What?” Castiel choked out in his laughter.</p><p>“I kinda liked it.”</p><p>Castiel shook his head, the last of his laughter dying away as he peered out of the Impalas windshield to the field of golden wheat in front of him, each stalk blowing in the wind like waves of the sea. “Is there a reason you’ve driven us so far out from the city?”</p><p>“C’mon. I wanna show you something.” Dean said instead of answering, pulling the handle to Baby’s door and swinging it open. Castiel didn’t have time to reach for his door as Dean had already rushed to his side, opening the door for him like the gentleman he is. Castiel shimmied out of his seat, grabbing his tan trench coat before it could drop from where it was resting on his lap. He slipped his arms through its comfortable sleeves, grateful for the extra warmth it provided as the night’s temperature began to drop.</p><p>“You plannin’ on flashing me or something?” Dean joked, gesturing to the trench coat with his hand which wasn’t occupied holding Cas’s door open. “Isn’t a little too hot to be wearing that thing, anyway?”</p><p>“I grew up in California, Dean.” Castiel retaliated. “I’m used to the heat.”</p><p>“You would have loved Iraq, then.” Dean walked around to the front of the Impala, jumping up on her hood. He settled himself, turning to Castiel and patting at the empty space next to him. “Hop up, Cas.”</p><p>Castiel did as he was asked, wondering where Dean was going with this. Castiel pushed himself up onto the hood in one sliding motion, much more elegant than Dean’s staggering jump. He scooted back as far as he dared, careful not to bump into the glass of the Impalas windshield.</p><p>“I do this a lot,” Dean told him, tearing his gaze away from Cas to glance up at the sky. “Every time I enter a new state, or just in the times where I feel a little stressed. I drive out to the middle of nowhere and I just… Look at the stars.”</p><p>Now that they were no longer in the populated area of the city, the night sky had become much clearer. Away from the light pollution, it had become blanket of darkness that was splattered with pinpricks of light shining brightly above them.</p><p>“Though I’ll admit, I usually have a beer in my hand” Dean leaned his head closer to Cas as he spoke. “Used to do this a lot with Sammy. It’s nice to share it with someone again.”</p><p>“It is amazing,” Castiel agreed in wonderment. “Makes me wonder what else could be out there. If there truly is a heaven and a God sat somewhere up there, out of reach, watching down on us as we stare back up at them.”</p><p>“Maybe they’re the stars,” Dean added. “I mean, I know stars are just other suns, but… You never know, I guess.”</p><p>“Life isn’t possible without the sun, and it’s said that God created and nourished all life. Perhaps each sun <em>is </em>a God. One for every galaxy.” Castiel dropped his head back down, his eyes settling on the side of Dean’s face, who still had his face craned towards the sky. His eyes dropped to the ground for a moment, the questioning burning in his mind forcing its way out of his mouth. “What are we doing here, Dean?”</p><p>“Uh, I know it’s kind of an odd place to take you, but it was the first thing I thought of and, y’know, like I said I wasn’t ready for our date to end, so-“</p><p>“That’s not what I mean,” Castiel cut Dean’s ramblings off. “You said it yourself; you’re not planning on staying here for too long. I don’t know what you think is going to happen here, but… I’m not one to ‘hit it and quit it’, as people say.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Dean mumbled, pushing his hands off their hold on the hood of the Impala and hunching over, looking down at his hands as they rested in his lap. “Yeah, I kinda got that feeling…”</p><p>Castiel sighed deeply from his nose, shuffling closer to Dean and gazing out to the field they were sat in. “I like you, Dean - in case you couldn’t tell. Maybe a little more than I should after one date, but… I don’t want to go and get attached to you and then… Have to say goodbye. If… If this is the way I feel after knowing you for just one evening? I dread to think how I’d feel after a few months of knowing you.”</p><p>“I… Cas, I feel the same,” Dean internally cursed at himself. Why could he never say what he was <em>actually </em>feeling? Why does he refuse to let the words Cas just hear come from his mouth? “God, my brain feels so <em>screwed </em>right now. Coming out here, I only toyed with the idea of staying here longer. I was fully prepared to leave after a few weeks. Now… Now I’ve met you, and… and now the part of me that always screams at me to ‘<em>Keep moving!’ </em>is subdued. It’s <em>quiet.</em> Cas, you bring out parts of me that I didn’t even know existed. I’m not ready to throw that away. I’ve let a lot of chances slip by before, but you? I don’t think I can let you go.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are we doing, then?” Castiel asked, his soft, sad eyes trained on Dean’s. “I can’t ask you to move to California just because we’ve been on one date, Dean. We don’t know how this is going to go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then why don’t we just play it by ear?” Dean offered, shuffling himself to the side so he was facing Cas. “Just go with it. Pretend like I live in Stanford. Maybe I’ll find a job here, maybe not, but… Hey, long-distance relationships are a thing, right? I’ve already got Sammy, but knowing you’re here? I think I’d find myself making trips over to Stanford more often than I used to.”</p><p>Castiel’s head stayed hung down, but a small smile still found its way across his face at Dean’s words. The silence was damn near unbearable as Dean waited for Castiel to say something, <em>anything</em>, in response to what he had laid out on the table. There wasn’t much Dean ever wanted in his life, simply going through it, following the flow, making sure Sammy got all that <em>he </em>wanted. Now <em>he</em> was finally allowed to want<em>, </em>and Castiel? He wanted his easy conversation. He wanted his love of bees and science and his equally strong love for his brother. He wanted to see that stupid trench-coat every damn day he can. He wanted to wake up and look into those crystal blue eyes. He wanted <em>everything </em>about him.</p><p>He wanted Cas in his life.</p><p>Castiel lifted his head back up. “You really think we can make this work?”</p><p>“I could never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try, Cas. If this ends in pain and heartbreak, then… So be it. It’ll be worth it for the memories I create with you.”</p><p>The silence that followed was different from the one before. It was one filled with hesitant hope. The kind of tension that makes your heart feel tight in your chest, makes your breath quicken, makes it <em>impossible </em>to tear your eyes from the others.</p><p>“And y’know, your coffee’s good as hell, so…”</p><p>Castiel snorted, giving Dean a half-hearted push at the sight of his cocky grin. “You talk too much, you know that?”</p><p>“Is that so?” Dean’s voice dripped with his teasing tone, the cocky smile that had become plastered to his face now more of a challenge than anything. “In that case, I guess you should find a way to shut me up.”</p><p>The dam broke, the tension that had been steadily building between them forcing its way through to the front. Castiel’s hand wrapped around the back of Dean’s head, tangling themselves in the short strands of Dean’s soft hair and yanking him forward until their mouths slotted together. Dean’s hands found themselves winding up Castiel’s body until he reached the lapels of Cas’s trench coat, his fingers gripping tight until they were burrowed in the scratchy material, unconsciously yanking Castiel impossibly closer.</p><p>Castiel’s hands moved away from Dean’s head, sliding down towards his chest where he gave Dean a gentle push. Dean, assuming Castiel was asking him to stop, immediately pulled back. Castiel grunted his disapproval, pushing Dean further back who, despite now feeling quite confused, followed his shoves and slid off the hood of the Impala. He didn’t have much time to question what Cas was doing before Cas’s lips were on his once more, a hand wrapped around his wrist which incessantly tugged him closer. Castiel was backing up slowly along the side of the Impala, pulling Dean with him until his back hit the handle to the backseat. He reached his empty hand behind him, grabbing hold of the handle and swinging the door open. His lips regrettably slid away from Dean’s for a moment to fully open the door, to which Dean whined at the loss, not even caring about how embarrassing he would usually find such a noise.</p><p>Castiel all but fell backward into the seats of the Impala, grunting softly as his back met the leather seats. Dean followed eagerly, climbing into the Impala with him. He scrambled up, his knees straddling Cas’s sides as he twisted his body round to yank the door closed. The overhead light that had switched on upon the door opening had faded away, and even in the dark of night, Dean could see the pearly whites of Cas’s teeth as he grinned up at him. Dean leaned over, resting his body against Cas until they were lined up hip to hip and covering Cas’s grin with his mouth. Castiel lifted his head to chase Dean’s lips, jolting as he felt the tip of Dean’s tongue slide across his bottom lip, leaving a thin trail of saliva as he went.</p><p>Castiel whined keenly into Dean’s mouth, the muffled sound sending a jolt of electricity down Dean’s spine and every nerve end, reaching the tips of his toes. Castiel nibbled gently at Dean’s lip before he let his lips part, granting Dean’s incessant tongue access. The five o’clock shadow on Castiel’s face scratched against Dean’s skin as their mouths worked together, the rough burning sensation of his stubble scratching Dean’s sensitive skin only heightening everything else he was feeling.</p><p>“This won’t do…” Dean mumbled into Castiel’s mouth, tugging at the sleeves of Cas’s trench-coat. Castiel gladly granted Dean’s request, pulling away momentarily to scramble out of his coat, tossing it over the front seat. Dean leaned back onto his knees, towering over Castiel as he grabbed the back of his shirt near the neck, tugging it over his head and tossing it away to join Castiel’s trench coat. Castiel swiftly followed suit, fingers expertly popping open the buttons of his shirt and yanking it off his body, discarding it to the floor.</p><p>The next second Castiel’s fingers were fumbling with the button on Dean’s jeans, who had to give a bit of an awkward hop on his knees to shuffle out of them and pushing them to the floor with his feet. Castiel had given up trying to help Dean’s jeans off him, focusing on his own pants as he kicked his legs out from their confines.</p><p>“Hold on,” Dean stopped Castiel as he reached to pull Dean in closer. He leaned over the front seat, stretching to reach the glove box and pulling it open. Dean came back with a bottle of lube and a few foil square packets of condoms in hand, his eyes looking hesitantly to Castiel. “These always come in handy. I, uh… I know I’m clean.” Dean mumbled. “Got tested a few weeks back. I get it if you don’t want to take the risk. Seriously, I won’t be offended.”</p><p>“I’m clean too,” Castiel told him, lifting his eyes from the condom packets up to Dean. “It’s… It’s been a while since I… Y’know…”</p><p>“I’ll be careful,” Dean assured him, placing the condoms on the front seat but keeping the bottle of lube in hand. Dean squeezed a generous dollop into his hand, grateful that the warm night had saved the nightmarish experience that was cold lube. He guessed California’s uncomfortable weather <em>did </em>have its perks…</p><p>Dean’s eyes had begun to adjust to the dark, taking in the sight of Castiel as he laid back on his elbows. His eyes traveled up his toned tan stomach, up to his chest and locking onto Cas’s eyes, his heart beating fast as he stared into Cas’s fully blown-out pupils. They had all but taken over the whites of his eyes, his eyes seemingly appearing entirely black. Castiel’s breath hitched as Dean hooked a finger into the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down unbearably slowly. Dean’s hand wrapped around the shaft of Castiel’s dick, sliding his hand leisurely up until he reached the tip, swiping a thumb across the sensitive head and spreading the lube generously around. Castiel’s head dropped back against the door with a solid ‘thump’, moaning low in his throat.</p><p>Dean tightened his grip as he moved his hand up and down, his eyes fixated on the way Castiel’s face contorted in pleasure with every stroke of his fist. His hand reached the top of Cas’s shaft, then he gave a small twist of his hand, leaving a trail of satisfying pressure against the delicate skin. Cas bucked his hips up into his hand in response, shooting out an arm and grasping Dean’s forearm in a death grip, whispering a harsh curse under his breath.</p><p>Dean paused, grabbing the lube from his side and coating his other hand. He resumed his tugging on Cas’s throbbing cock as he placed his lubed finger on Castiel’s entrance, making slow circles around the rim and letting the lube spread. He gradually inserted the tip of his index finger, waiting until Castiel’s muscles unclenched before slowly pushing further and further in. Castiel’s hand dropped from Dean’s arm, falling down to the seats of the Impala and clawing at the pristine leather as another moan was ripped from his throat.</p><p>“You okay?” Dean checked, stilling his hand and glancing down at Castiel.</p><p>“Yes,” Castiel breathed out, eyes clenched shut in a mixture of pleasure and mild discomfort, waiting for the usual burning stretch to fade away. “Keep going. <em>Please.</em>”</p><p>Dean gladly followed his command, pulling his finger back until just the tip was left, then pushing back in. He quickened his pace once he felt Castiel begin to relax, matching the speed of his hand with the other that was still stroking Cas.</p><p>“More…” Castiel mumbled out, pushing his hips towards Dean’s thrusting fingers.</p><p>Dean slowed his pace, placing his middle finger next to his index and pushing in, moving slowly against the resistance. He continued forcing his way in when Castiel didn’t complain, pushing forward until both were in all the way to the knuckles. “Fuck,” Castiel cursed sharply once Dean resumed his previous pace, his brain going into overdrive from the sensations of Dean’s rough, calloused mechanic hands rubbing up and down the sensitive skin of his dick, combined with the pleasant stretch of himself around Dean’s fingers. Yet, at the same time, his body wanted <em>more</em>.</p><p>“Dean, <em>please</em>,” Castiel’s voice had dropped so low that it was no more than a rough growl, reaching out a hand to grab Dean’s arm again once he added a third finger. “I need…”</p><p>“What do you need?” Dean teased in a breathy voice, continuing with his pace. Castiel’s hand tightened around his arm at the movement, dropping his head back and swiping his tongue across his lower lip to moisten the dry skin there.</p><p>“You,” Castiel whined in answer, lifting his head back up to lock eyes with Dean’s. “I need you inside me.”</p><p>“Fuck, Cas,” Dean swore, pulling his fingers out of Cas and quickly wiping the remaining lube off against his boxers. He yanked the offending material off in a flash, letting his straining cock spring free from its confines. He squeezed some more lube out into his hands, stroking his dick quickly with one hand until his length was coated with the thick, slippery gel. Dean lowered himself down, one hand bracing himself on the back seat of the Impala whilst the other gripped tight around his cock, guiding himself towards Castiel’s entrance. He teased Castiel’s rim with the tip of his cock before easing himself in, pushing forward until the head of his dick popped inside. Both their breaths quickened, nearly matching in speed as Dean gradually pushed forward. Dean moaned as he bottomed out, his entire length enveloped in the velvet heat of Castiel’s walls.</p><p>“<em>Fuck </em>Cas… You’re so <em>warm.” </em>Dean groaned, every fiber of his being screaming at him to <em>move.</em></p><p><em>“</em>Dean…<em>move.” </em>Castiel echoed his thoughts, tightening himself around Dean’s cock.</p><p>The animal instinct in Dean wanted to just go at a relentless pace, but he held himself back, not wanting this to be over too fast. He pulled his dick back as agonizing slowly as he could, shuddering at the jolt of pleasure from Castiel’s tight grip around him. “Dammit, Dean. Go <em>faster.” </em>Dean smirked at the genuine annoyance and frustration in Castiel’s tone, taking a little too much pleasure in denying Castiel of his request.</p><p>Dean continued his slow pace, relishing in the moans and curses that Castiel let slip. Cas’s arms had slithered up Dean’s sides, his fingers winding themselves in Dean’s hair and holding on tight. With every stroke, Castiel’s fingers would tighten around the clumps of hair he held, the sharp pain that came with each pull adding to Dean’s pleasure.</p><p>Unable to take the slow pace anymore, Dean pulled himself out until he nearly slipped free, then slammed his hips forward until he was fully burrowed inside. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed around the Impala, impossibly loud in the quiet of the night. Castiel gasped at being filled without warning, feeling impossibly full. He didn’t have much time to recover before Dean began thrusting hard and fast, their sweaty thighs rubbing against one another’s with every thrust of Dean’s hips. Castiel raised his hips to match Dean’s pace, pushing against him with every thrust.</p><p>“God, Dean… Don’t stop…” Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean’s hips, pulling Dean forward with every push.</p><p>“I thought angels weren’t supposed to use God’s name in vain?” Dean joked, grinning at the spectacular glare he got in return.</p><p>“You talk a lot of shit for someone with such soft, kissable lips.”</p><p>Well, Dean could take a hint. His mouth slotted perfectly over Cas’s, both sets of lips glossy and shining with each other’s spit. He nibbled at Cas’s lower lip as he thrust into him, sharply pulling at the swollen lip with his teeth. Cas hissed into his mouth at the sharp sting, lip snapping back into place when Dean finally released it from his grasp. Cas’s lips had become inflamed and bright red in color, and Dean was sure his own lips looked about the same right now.</p><p>“Wait a minute,” Dean started, pulling out and instantly missing the warmth of Cas around him. Cas whined at the empty feeling, reflexively grabbing for Dean to try and pull him back. Dean pushed himself up, rocking back onto his knees and leaning on the back of his calves. He grabbed at Cas’s outstretched arms, pulling a confused Cas up until he too was sitting.</p><p>At least, that’s what he tried to do.</p><p>“Jesus!” Cas hissed in pain as the top of his head slammed into the roof of the Impala, bringing up a hand to rub at the lump he could already feel growing.</p><p>“Shit, sorry Cas! That wasn’t part of it.” Dean apologized, stifling the laugh the threatened to ruin his apologetic expression. He tugged Castiel forward once he stopped pouting about the hit to his head. Castiel caught on quickly, scrambling onto Dean’s lap. Dean’s abdomen muscles tightened as he felt Cas’s hand wrap around his dick, guiding him back in as he dropped down onto Dean’s lap, both knees placed either side of Dean.</p><p>Castiel took control, lifting himself up until the tip of his hair brushed the ceiling, then smoothly dropping back down into Dean’s lap. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, digging his fingernails into the soft skin to distract himself from the bouts of pleasure as he thrust his hips up to meet Cas’s enthusiastic rhythm. Cas’s warm breath fanned over his face with every heavy exhale, every descent of his body as he rode him. Dean found himself openly panting too, their strenuous activity quickly heating up Baby, whose windows had begun to steam up as the heat of their bodies was met with the cooling night air of California.</p><p>“Fuck, Dean. I’m close,” Castiel moaned in warning, his pace beginning to quicken. “I’m not going to last much longer.”</p><p>Personally, Dean would like to say his stamina was one of the best. Right now, though, he was in the same boat as Cas. In fact, a part of him was worried that, despite Cas’s claims, he was going to finish before Cas would. And that? That simply wouldn’t do. Ask any woman he’s been with before; he’s as much as a giver as he is a taker.</p><p>“Hang on, hang on,” Dean said as Castiel struggled to slow his pace, his body specifically telling him not to do so. “Turn around for me.”</p><p>Castiel didn’t question it, going with the flow and pushing himself off of Dean as he shuffled around until his back was facing Dean, moaning in relief as he felt Dean slide back into him. Instincts took over, his body rocking forward and back in chase of that final release. Dean’s muted grunts came from just behind Cas’s ear before he felt the searing heat of Dean’s lips against the side of his neck. Castiel arched his neck to the side, giving Dean more space to work with. Dean made a trail down Cas’s neck, stopping once he reached the dip where it met the collarbone.</p><p>“<em>Shit, </em>Cas… You’re gonna make me cum.” Dean pulled his lips away to whisper into Cas’s ear before returning his lips back to their rightful place. Dean’s hands wound themselves back around Cas’s body, settling on Cas’s stomach. They drifted down towards his prominent hip bones, their excruciatingly close proximity to the one place that was screaming for Dean’s touch making his stomach clench. His wish was granted as Dean’s hands closed around Cas’s shaft, giving it a strong tug upwards the same time he sucked hard at his collar bone with a pressure that was sure to leave a splotched bruise against his tan skin. Castiel gasped at the over-stimulating pleasure that shot through his entire body, his toes curling against the leather under his feet.</p><p>“<em>Fuck, </em>Dean,” Castiel drew out his name in a long whine. “Just like that.”</p><p>“I really hope you’re close,” Dean begged to any Gods that were listening, though he was sure what they were doing went against every Bible known to man.</p><p>“<em>Yes,” </em>Castiel thankfully moaned in response. “<em>Fuck, yes, Dean!” </em>Castiel spilled over Dean’s fist, his cum shooting between the gaps of Dean’s fingers and landing on Baby’s seats with a ‘pitter-patter’ of streaks. Every muscle in Castiel’s body tensed at the waves of pleasure shooting through him, tightening around Dean’s cock as he rode each wave out.</p><p>“<em>Shit, </em>Cas. I’m gonna-” Is all the warning Dean could get out, giving one last forceful thrust until he was burrowed deep inside. His balls tightened as he was pushed over the edge, shooting deep inside, coating Cas’s walls with his cum. Dean rested his forehead against Cas’s sweaty back, his dick giving the last of its feeble twitches.</p><p>Exhausted, drained, and knowing full well he should clean up the cum on his Baby’s seats and off his hands before it dried, Dean slid free from Cas and collapsed onto his back, the one arm hooked around Cas’s waist pulling him down with him. He grunted softly as Cas’s full weight landed on him. He gave Cas a gentle nudge, smiling playfully at the satisfied rumble of laugher from Cas that vibrated through his chest where he laid. Cas slid off him, only giving Dean a few seconds to breathe before he settled on his stomach, nestling in close to Dean with his head tucked under his, half of his body laying on the seats with the other half laid across him.</p><p>The Impala was unbearably hot, and the sticky feeling of Cas’s seed between his fingers was certainly unpleasant, but Dean couldn’t find it in himself right now to move. More than that, he would have to ask <em>Cas </em>to move, and there was no way in hell that was happening. Not when the guy looked so damn comfortable and, in Dean’s own personal opinion, adorable as all hell as he splayed himself out on Dean’s chest. The most movement Dean gave was to reach as far as he could stretch to snatch Cas’s trench-coat from over the front seat, flicking it in the air to open it up and placing it across their nude bodies. Sure, they were in the middle of <em>nowhere</em>, but Dean would rather not have some random, ‘<em>it’s way too early in the morning to be up</em>’ jogger getting a glimpse of the crown jewels.</p><p>“Will that help convince you to stay?” Castiel asked sleepily, squeezing his arms around Dean. Dean snorted, closing his eyes with a satisfied sigh, and settling into the comfortably worn seats of the Impala.</p><p>“Hmm… I’ll add it to the tally.”</p><p>Castiel grunted, and if he weren’t feeling so spent, he more than likely would have given Dean a good punch to the arm. It was more than he deserved. “What if I throw in free coffee?”</p><p>Dean chuckled heartily, the shaking in his chest transferring to Cas, who couldn’t help but laugh in response. They were probably a little delirious from their exhaustion, and were most definitely riding on that post-climax high, but if that meant they would lay here in the Impala and laugh together all night? Well, that was A-Okay in Dean’s book.</p><p>He hoped it was one of many more nights to come.</p><p>* * *</p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>“Hmph,” Dean grumbled, burrowing his face further into the pillow. There was always that one annoying stream of light that peeked through the blinds, and <em>every </em>damn morning, where did it land? Oh, of course, straight across Dean’s eyes, searing his corneas the second he opened his eyes. He really should get around to changing those damn blinds someday… Maybe some blackout curtains…</p><p>“<em>Dean.”</em></p><p>“Huh?” Dean opened his bleary eyes in response to the firm calling of his name, blinking away the sleep that clung to him. He grunted, making an attempt to push himself up with his arms. He quickly decided the effort was too much, dropping himself back down face-first into the inviting sheets of his bed. The bed was too damn cozy to move from right now… And the morning grogginess made it all the harder. Yes, he had decided that sleep was top priority right now.</p><p>“Guess I’ll just drink this coffee myself then…”</p><p>Okay, maybe it wasn’t <em>top </em>priority.</p><p>“I’m up! I’m up!” Dean protested before his precious caffeine could be stolen from him. With another grunt of effort, he rolled over onto his back, digging the palms of his hands into his closed eyes. An explosion of colors burst behind his eyelids as he rubbed, dropping his hands back down and opening his eyes, only to be greeted by the PIERCING sunlight filtering through the blinds that had just been opened.</p><p>Dean recovered from his sudden blinding, blinking away the burnt image in his retinas. Most of the light from the window had been blocked by a silhouette standing in front of it. Years ago, such a sight would have Dean jumping from his bed with the pistol he kept hidden under his pillow in hand. Too many jumped up assholes breaking into less than reputable motel rooms with shitty locks. Now, the sight brought him nothing but comfort, and still after all these years, sent his heart into a flutter. Castiel was stood there, dressed in his adorable grey pajamas that were decorated with little cartoon bees buzzing about. He was also wearing Dean’s old AC/DC shirt, the logo cracked and the black of the shirt faded in color after years of washing – likely with being thrown in the wrong wash if Dean’s being honest with himself. Cas held a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, and the messy nest that apparently went as ‘hair’ atop his head indicated Cas hadn’t woken up all that long ago.</p><p>“Lookin’ good,” Dean drawled out, pushing himself up to a sitting position and leaning back against the headboard with a comfortable sigh. He peered up at Cas from the one eye he was willing to crack open, patting at the empty space next to him (which was still warm, he <em>knew </em>Cas couldn’t keep up the ‘early bird’ mentality he had going on).</p><p>“Shut up and drink your coffee,” Castiel knelt atop the bed, swinging himself around and collapsing back with a whoosh of air as his back hit the headboard, holding the cup of coffee carefully in front of him to avoid any spillage. Castiel rubbed his free hand across both tired eyes before taking a hearty swig from the cup in his hands, ignoring Dean’s yelp of protest. Cas rolled his eyes at Dean’s gasps of betrayal, swallowing the hot beverage and wincing as it burnt down his throat. He held the coffee cup out to Dean, knowing full well Dean would become a whiny mess if he didn’t get his morning caffeine soon after waking. Dean snatched the cup form Cas’s hold, cradling it protectively to his chest. The bit didn’t last for long, the intoxicating smell of coffee wafting from the cup too strong to ignore. Dean took a sip, giving a contented hum as the delicious flavor passed his tongue.</p><p>Dean looked over, seeing that Cas had already grabbed the book he had been reading from the night before – ‘<em>Bees! A Guide To Beekeeping In Your Own Garden!’</em> – from the nightstand beside him. Castiel flicked the pages until he found the one where he had folded the corner; a personal pet peeve of Sam’s that Dean finds endlessly entertaining. Poor kid always looks like he wants to cry whenever he sees the state of their books. Cas’s brow furrowed as he peered down at the words in front of him, worrying at his thumb that rested between his lips at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>Dean watched him with a soft smile, his eyes dropping down to his cup and taking another sip. Dean was content to sit here all morning, sippin’ on his coffee, contemplating his life, and watching Cas’s endearing change of facial expressions as he read his book. More often than not, Dean would be woken up by Cas’s incessant poking, looking over groggily to Cas as he excitedly babbled on about whatever it was he had just read in his book of the week, ignoring the fact that it was <em>three in the morning</em>. Anyone else pulled that shit, Dean would be sure to kick them out of his bed. But this was Cas, so he got a free pass. Even if whatever Cas was showing him <em>wasn’t </em>interesting, Cas would somehow find a way to make it seem so. Perhaps it was his enthusiasm in finding new material to teach his class at Stanford. Or maybe Dean got that warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever Cas shared something he loved with Dean. One of the two. Probably both. Okay, maybe the latter more so, but definitely both.</p><p>As appealing as it was to go with his minds plan to go straight back to sleep, the caffeine buzzing through his veins made such a task next to impossible. On top of that, the little scribbly writing on the calendar next to their bed reminded him that Sam and Gabriel would be visiting today. Even more importantly, they’d be bringing over their new puppy: a bouncy, energetic ball of fur named Bailey. Sam wasn’t too happy when he found out Gabriel had suggested the name because of that excessively sweet liqueur, but the name stuck. In Gabriel’s defense- which is something Dean never thought he’d say- their little Labrador pup did have a gorgeous coat of chocolate fur to match the name. At least, judging by the pictures Sam had messaged over. </p><p>Dean groaned as he stretched to the side, placing the mostly empty coffee cup on a coaster atop the nightstand on his side of the bed. He returned to his original position, taking in a deep breath of air and holding it for a few seconds before exhaling heavily through his nose. Just then, a streak of light reflected off something up into his eyes. Dean looked down from where the light was coming from, a fond smile crossing his face. He pinched the thin band of golden metal on his ring finger between his thumb and index finger, twisting it around absentmindedly, watching as the sunlight glinted off the curve off the polished metal.</p><p>Castiel glanced up from his book as something caught his eye, captivated by the flashes of light that were cast around the room. He turned his head to Dean, eyes landing on the wedding ring on his finger. He watched Dean twist the ring around his finger for some time, gently closing his book atop his thumb to keep his place when he returns to it. “Dean?”</p><p>“Hmm?” Dean hummed, still playing with his ring, lost in his own mind.</p><p>“I’ve always wondered… No, never mind.”</p><p>“No, never- What?” Dean snapped out of his trance, glancing up at Cas with a concerned frown. “No, come on. What were you gonna ask?”</p><p>Castiel paused, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before coming to decision. He slid his thumb out of the book, placing it back on the nightstand before turning his body to face Dean. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. He sighed, playing with his fingers which rested in his lap, gathering up the courage to ask what was on his mind. “Was I worth it?”</p><p>Dean’s frown deepened, ducking his head to try and get a better read of how Cas was feeling. “Were you worth it? I don’t get what you’re asking me here, Cas.”</p><p>Cas huffed. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but… This life?” Castiel gestured at the walls of the house around them. “I’d have to be blind to pretend this isn’t different from the life you once led, Dean. One that you were unwilling to leave. Going from moving from state to state, shop to shop, to now settling down in a house with a husband, working at the same place <em>every </em>day?”</p><p>“Are you asking me if I regret leaving that life behind?”</p><p>“I… Partly? What it’s… What I’m <em>trying </em>to ask, is... Dean, are you happy here? In California? With me?”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” Dean sputtered, shaking his head like he hadn’t heard Cas correctly. “Cas, of <em>course </em>I am, a helluva lot happier than I’ve been in- well, <em>forever</em>. Where I’m at, where <em>we’re </em>at right now? Sure, if you had asked me five years ago where I thought I’d be right now, this isn’t what I would have described. Not because it’s not what I want. I didn’t know <em>what </em>I wanted back then, Cas. All I had was the life I <em>knew</em>, one I wasn’t necessarily <em>happy </em>in, but <em>comfortable. </em>Change scared me, and I didn’t know how to face that. Then you walked into my life- I guess technically <em>I </em>walked into your life - and then I knew that some changes were worth chasing.”</p><p>“I think you knew you had me the second you placed your order,” Cas said, playing with his own ring now with an affectionate smile</p><p>“And <em>I </em>think <em>you</em> knew you had me the second I saw you.”</p><p>“So, neither of us was doing much chasing?”</p><p>“Eh, I don’t know,” Dean stood from the bed, stretching out his arms until he felt a satisfying ‘pop’ in his shoulder joints. He leaned over the bed, placing a brief kiss on his husband’s lips, feeling the smile Cas was trying to smother against his. “We have to chase after Gabe and Sammy a lot. I think that counts.” Dean continued once he had pulled away, picking his nearly finished cup of coffee back up and draining the last dregs at the bottom.</p><p>Dean sauntered over to their Chester drawers, pulling the bottom drawer open and taking out a clean pair of jeans. He had one leg through when he noticed Castiel staring at him, a soft smile on his face as he watched Dean dress. “I know you like to get a long look of the goods, but the staring’s kinda creepy, Cas.” Cas’s smile turned more bashful, shaking his head and looking away.</p><p>“What?” Dean asked through a laugh, putting his other leg into his pants and yanking them up, giving a little jump to get them into place.</p><p>“Nothing, I just… I love you.” Castiel must have said those three words to him hundreds of times, but they still made Dean’s heart thump funny in his chest every time he heard them. “Felt like I needed to say it.”</p><p>“Cas? I want you to promise me something.” Dean rummaged through the second to last drawer- Cas’s drawer- searching for Cas’s favorite pair of dress pants. “Whenever you feel like saying that to me? You go ahead and say it. Any time, any place. And if there ever comes a time where I don’t say it back? I want you to grab my pistol from the safe and shoot my clone, because that’s the <em>only</em> way I wouldn’t be saying it back.”</p><p>“Does that mean I have to shoot you right now? Because you didn’t say it back.”</p><p>Dean threw Cas’s pants at him, hitting him square in the face. “I love you too, you sassy dick.”</p>
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